Jagged Red Pill
by Yo-yo
Summary: As the Order of the Phoenix's newest undercover agent, Lily Evans has much to prove. Among them, she must prove she is cunning, Muggle-borns are equal to Pure-bloods, and that James Potter is an infuriating toe-rag. Drama/Romance/Humor
1. Animal Backwards

Jagged Red Pill

-By Yo-yo

Description: As the Order of the Phoenix's newest undercover agent, Lily Evans has a lot to prove. Among them, she must prove she is trustworthy, that Muggle-borns are equal to Pure-bloods, and that James Potter is an infuriating toe-rag. Drama/Romance/Humor

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I do not own HP, or any of JKR's characters. I only own the insanity that perpetuates my story. (This counts for the entire story)

A/N: AU. This story operates under the assumption that Lily and the Marauders went to Hogwarts three years apart. When the Marauders were in their seventh year, she was in her fourth, which is why they don't know one another. I should also qualify that a few wizards that were not included in the original Order are included in this story. The setting is present day London. Otherwise, the story's pretty clear, and if it isn't, that's what review space is for! R&R please!

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><p>Prologue- Animal Backwards:<p>

Patent leather six-inch heels clicked against the asphalt with purpose. The strong lengths of her legs were painted in a synthetic fabric called liquid leggings, making the light from the streetlamps slither in long, shapely beams off of the "leather." A black leather bandeau maintained modesty, binding her chest like a censor bar, and a loose-knit fishnet leotard kept the rest of her warm. Her hair was a shocking electric pink, tied in a severe bun with mismatched chopsticks, contrasting sharply with her colorless eyes, ghostly pale skin and her features highlighted in black make-up.

She brought her slight fingers to her lips where she held a dark red berry, easily distinguishable between her white fingers and black lacquered fingernails. Popping the berry in her mouth, she used her teeth to scrape the tangy pulp from the bitter seed and discarded the seed in her décolletage. She swirled the pulp along her tongue as she marched toward her destination, legs crossing over one another confidently as though she were on her own personal runway, and swallowed the sweetish flesh after a minute.

Turning sharply down a run-down, cobblestoned alleyway, she stalked between the neglected backs of buildings before she came across a large, unmarked, black painted metal door. The door had been painted over many times, the paint bubbling and scratched down to the metal in certain places. She didn't have much time to inspect the damage, for instantly, as though anticipating her arrival, a pair of dark eyes slid into view from behind a small sliding door.

"Whadaya want?" a deep voice asked, after a moment of inspection.

"To reach nirvana," she smiled, taking her supple black lip between her glistening teeth and winking mischievously.

The small opening drew closed and for a beat, nothing happened.

She didn't shift or jump when finally the door swung open to reveal a rusting, metal staircase between dank, slimy cinderblock walls.

Descending without hesitation, she felt many things at the same time. The first was the swift change in temperature, the air from outside unable to penetrate the building's threshold, therefore offering no displacement for quickly declining temperature. Another was the disturbing, creeping feeling of eternity grappling at her legs first, and making its way up her legs and hands and body as she plunged into a darkness below that was so dense it appeared solid. The last was the bass-heavy, broody music that like the temperature and feeling began to climb up her body until her heartbeat synced up with the beat.

A second door opened as she reached the last step. Like the first door she did nothing to announce her presence, and entered the lit room knowing exactly what she would find there.

"Hello love," she was instantly accosted by an emaciated young man with empty eyes, "What's a young… zoetic girl like you doing in a place like this?" He moved his finger to the pulsing along her neck, his touch like ice as he drew a line to her collarbone, down her arm, and extended his tongue lewdly as he wrapped his arm around her hips possessively.

"I'm Eurydice in the Underworld, searching for my Orpheus, of course," she answered wryly, pushing him aside and heading toward her initial destination.

"O negative, body temperature."

"It'll be extra," a young woman stood before her, frowning indignantly as she watched her.

"Don't worry, it's my birthday."

"Well then, wouldn't you want something a little more sublime?" a smirk of pretention overtaking her pinched features.

She took a moment to take in the rude young woman before her. Standing at average height, she wore heavy black, steel toed boots, those large, loose cargo-type pants with the million and one chains and straps crisscrossing from the belt loops, and a simple tank top, everything was black. Her skin was as pale as her own, a myriad of piercings perforated her face, and her silky hair was twisted and knotted in long, heavy dreadlocks, pulled high on her head with a few hanging down, skimming her waist.

"Alright," she groaned. She turned away and flicked her wrist flippantly as she continued, "Give me something with smoky notes, then."

She leaned back against the expansive bar of the nightclub. She was standing in a large, underground concrete tomb. Opposite her and the bar, a DJ governed the music, and between them a mixture of dance and seating area were fashioned. Opposite the door she entered through was the water closet, probably fashioned in the same style as the club: expansive, sparse, perpendicular, windowless and grey.

"Wotcher doin' here anyway?" the barmaid caught her attention again. "What are you, sixteen, in a place like this?"

"For your information," she looked over her shoulder, keeping her form on display, "It's my eighteenth birthday."

"Still doesn't explain what you're doing here," the barmaid lifted a pierced brow.

A deep sigh escaped her lips as she turned reluctantly, and took in the barmaid's appearance once again, "I'm looking for the fountain of youth. I hear your lots got it and willing to share."

"Oh, we've got it alright," the barmaid regarded her in apparent disgust, "but we don't just share it with anyone. Especially not your type, Flower."

"What's my type?" She pulled her spine into its most rigid stance. "And what's wrong with my type?"

A smooth, soft chuckle shook the barmaid's diaphragm as she regarded the young woman with shockingly pink hair before her and she shook her head. "Your middle class, suburban discontent story with not coax 'my lot' into inviting you to share the world of immortality. Go back to your Mum and Dad. I'm sure all your contrived pain will be remedied by a Xanax or twenty."

"Show's you what you know about 'my type.' Even if you're daft enough to believe you know me, you're underestimation of 'my type' will prove your detriment when you learn that I always get what I want." She looked the barmaid in the eye with a hardened expression overtaking her face.

"Here's your O negative, body temperature as you asked. She kicked at fifty-six; she had emphysema."

Not taking her eyes from the barmaid, she brought the warm drink to her lips and took a sip. Never breaking the hard expression she'd assumed, she opened her mouth to reveal her blood red tongue, and lapped the remaining liquid from her upper lip, leaving dark red streaks on her pale skin.

"This tastes like rubbish," she smirked, darkly. "It's like you added Liquid Smoke or something. I thought I asked for a note, not the whole bloody aria," she pulled a fifty pound note from the waistband of her leggings and turned her back to the bar, once again regarding the open floor plan with observant eyes, this time with her drink secured in her hand.

"You'll get more than you asked for," the barmaid chuckled aloud behind the naïve girl.

The dance floor was full of young, writhing bodies, dressed like her. In the current lighting, she couldn't distinguish the Muggles from the vampires, but that was the point of a place like this. In present day London, in the wake of drivel such as _Twilight_, such places were popular amongst the subculture. For the Muggles that frequented places like this, the dark seduction of beauty and immortality beguiled them into believing that consorting with vampires would help them achieve the difference that evaded them, and made them crave a life beyond the mundane. The resolute come to find vampires willing to perform the deed and act as their Callers. The indecisive come to experience the rush of being bitten without lasting side effects.

Lily's eyes took in the patrons, their sullen make-up and striking costumes working as a mask for both sides. For the vampires, maintaining these semblances of humanity put their food at ease, even quelling the natural instinct to repel the undead. For Muggles, embracing the magical beings gave them a sense of belonging wrapped in the guise of natural curiosity, for no matter what, they truly did not belong here, putting on the façade of ease when the human disposition naturally, and quite intelligently, fought against this unnatural proclivity.

Not that Lily felt that vampires were unnatural.

Vampires are as integral to the world as dementors, ghosts, and the contrary of some wizards, Muggles. It was only that vampires' inherent existence worked against the nature of living things, which made them dangerous, but not worthless.

Her eyes scoured the room, noting the traffic at the loo. People milled around the area, most of them seemed to be grouped as couples. Some couples came and left together, others left separately, and others left with people they hadn't entered with. No one seemed to be bothered by this behavior and she knew to behave likewise.

Taking another swallow of the abysmal drink, she carefully controlled her expression as her pale eyes caught the dark, glistening eyes of a young man.

He was watching her, for when she acknowledged his attention with a small nod; he lifted himself from his seat amongst you, disinterested looking women and began to move toward her.

She pulled her drink to her lips again, to conceal a smile.

Ok. She understood the draw of a place like this now.

As he stalked toward her, his dark eyes glistening almost predatorily as they locked eyes; she felt herself shiver. He wore a dark, silk shirt, unbuttoned so it billowed in the cool air as he moved, displaying his pale, sinuously muscled chest for her appreciation and a pair of wool trousers, fitted nicely. The way he moved toward her, as if completely drawn by the electric current of their attraction was positively flattering. It also helped that he was tall, intense looking and had the sullen, androgynous appeal that would make him a successful male model.

He was the embodiment of sex.

This was her man.

"You're new to these parts."

"That I am," she swiped the blood from her upper lip with her finger and licked it off her finger, "I'm just old enough to get in."

"And what would make you want to 'get in' a place like this?" he moved closer to her, taking her vulgar gesture as an invitation.

Her eyes never strayed from his as she answered, "A life of ennui has set me on a path toward élan."

"And all you need is someone to free you?" He whispered, pressing his nose into the flesh of her neck, landing finally on the pulsing vein along her neck.

"Uh huh," she moaned softly, keeping her body rigid as the coolness of his skin made hers pebble in gooseflesh.

"My name is Benjamin Sinclair. I was born in 1796. And what's your name, Flower?"

"I am called Penny Lane, my parents are… sorry, were avid Beatles fans," Lily flashed him an impish smile, bringing the glass to her lips again.

Benjamin offered her a breathtaking smile, both primal and comforting at the same time, while moving his hands down the contours of her arms, only to take her hand. He tugged on her arm, lightly, moving his head to indicate they were headed for the water closet.

Before Benjamin could lead her away, she took a moment to turn and wink at the barmaid, triumphantly. She didn't see Benjamin wink at the barmaid behind her back. Therefore, when the barmaid only grinned back, she didn't catch the sinister twinkle in her eyes.

Letting Benjamin lead her away, Lily asked,

"Benny, how did you notice me with all of those gorgeous women around you?"

"Your hair," he drawled, fingering a flyaway. "Pink reminds me of the living. And I must admit, I have a soft spot for both the color and the living. And Flower, you reek of life."

"I know," she nodded, offering him doe eyes and a pout. "It burdens me. I hope, Benny, that you can help rid me of it."

He moved behind her in one step, moving his hand to the small of her back as he led her through the doors to the water closet, a broad smile consuming his angular visage as he trailed behind her.

Beyond the metal door, painted black many times just like the others, lay no lavatory. Instead of stalls, large, private rooms were erected in the same style of the club. It was like a labyrinth of concrete cupboards, the doors were the same painted metal as all the others, with small vents to circulate the air, _for the living_, she supposed.

Benjamin pressed his hand into the small of her back as they made their way through the narrow corridors searching for an empty room. When Benjamin leaned over her shoulder and extended a hand to test a locked door, triumph transformed his features and he swung the door open for her.

The walls of the unoccupied room were splattered in red and the metallic smell of blood was heavy in the stagnant air. The room was sparse and cold. There were no creature comforts, only a solid, concrete bench just long enough for her to lie down on, sans heels.

She proceeded into the room, craning her neck to inspect her surroundings while Benjamin closed the door after them, clicking the lock shut while allowing his teeth to slowly elongate before he turned to her. Before he could pounce, his jaw locked and his limbs went rigid; he was paralyzed. She held a small wooden wand in one hand and the glass of blood she'd been holding the whole night in another.

And he crashed to the floor.

"Now, you weren't going to attack me, were you, Benny?" She gave him doe eyes again and stuck out her bottom lip.

He couldn't shake his head in the total body bind she'd bound him to, but his eyes shifted frantically, from side to side as though to say no.

"Don't worry, this won't take long," she pulled him easily onto the built-in-seat.

"So, you're relatively young, undeniably attractive, and quite congenial, I hear. You are quite popular in many circles. I've even heard ridiculous things like you call yourself Oscar Wilde's muse for Dorian…" she eyed him a moment. "Although you are quite the dandy, I would advise you to be a little more discreet. For your name precedes you. The pink hair thing is widely known in the Muggle world and beyond, making it quite easy to find yourself in such situations.

"So now, I must tell you my problems, considering it is I that sought you out, and not the other way around as you so believed. I have learned, that you have been talking to someone you shouldn't… and you know that. But you have kept it on, despite the fact that even your Caller has advised you to stay away.

"Thus, you find yourself in a compromising situation. You see, this is a wand. The other chopstick in my hair is a stake. Your options are: answer me and you live, stay quiet, which I hear is a bit difficult for you, Benny, and die.

"Remember a few things before you begin: sound does not pass easily through these walls and you cannot transform when paralyzed by a wand. Although, what good would that do you in such circumstances, with only that tiny vent to escape? I know that the camera is a dummy, in order to allay the fears of Muggles. I know what goes on here."

She moved in closer to him, her breath warming his ear,

"And it's holy water filling my chicken cutlets, in case I need to do any rogering… Oops, I meant torturing."

Sitting up straight, she continued,

"So, what has you on the impetus of murdering a young, impressionable Muggle and putting yourself in Azkaban for the remainder of your long, everlasting life?"

She pointed her wand at his lips, poised to give him voice, when she pulled back to add,

"Sorry, we both know you'd never last in Azkaban. Not when the dementors realized that a kiss from you would be extra sweet. As a corrupted soul possessing the body of a dead person is sort of a delicacy for their kind.

"So what's your explanation, you naughty, naughty boy?"

She pointed her wand at his lips.

"My Caller let it slip he heard murmurs of the Dark Lord and Inferius. I hoped my contribution would put me in His favor."

"Is that all?" she frowned, perplexed. "You just wanted approval from Him?"

"To me it is everything."

"Why?" she regarded his beautiful face and contemplated his reputation.

"This life… this life is fairly mundane."

Lily laughed, "Would you like me to end it for you? To be so young, beautiful and discontent is treacherous, indeed."

"To be honest, I thought you might. Despite the choices you offered me, your kind… they regard us…"

"Then be ashamed that I am not like 'my' kind," she pressed a swift kiss to his lips, satisfying the impulse before throwing him back quickly.

Pulling the chopstick/wooden stake from her hair, she dipped the end in her glass of blood and placed two dots on her neck. Smearing a little more on her skin she turned to Benjamin. She threw the remainder of the blood in his face, catching the area around his mouth so that it ran down his chin and neck in the depraved way everyone imagines vampires feast. Then she pushed the chopstick back in her hair, and mussed her hair and make-up until she was the perfect picture of disheveled. Finally content with her work, she placed her wand to his temple and muttered, "_Obliviate_," reversed the body-bind curse and stood up.

Before Benjamin roused, Lily stashed her wand in her hair and began to scream stridently.

Fumbling for a moment with the door, she managed to wrench it open, and took off past the other stone chambers as fast as her unsteady footwear would take her. Screaming and crying she made her way from the "water closet." Streaking past the bar to the door, she didn't look to catch the barmaid's twisted smirk.

This type of things happened every night.

Up the stairs and out of the lair, Lily continued screaming and crying until she rounded an abandoned alleyway, the assigned Disapparation point, and disappeared with a loud _Pop_.

TBC…

P. A/N: Chapter title was taken from a song by Minus the Bear (whose music is their own, of course).


	2. Dog Days Are Over

Jagged Red Pill

-By Yo-yo

A/N: I hope you enjoyed the Prologue. This chapter, at least for me is another basket filled with tons o' fun. I'm currently revising Chapter 3 so hopefully there will be very regular updates, unless I get stuck somewhere. This is a fun story so I hope you have fun with it. And if you're interested in my other HP fanfics, **Why Lily Fell**, a more canonical story is also being updated.

By the way, thank you **Riauna** for my first review on this story. If you read, I'd appreciate a review… they're seen as currency on this website, and are a chance for more people to read.

With love,

Yo-yo

Chapter 1- Dog Days Are Over:

_ Three weeks earlier:_

Her mornings were the same, a well-paced promenade through the mundane.

She woke before the sun, her alarm clock blaring a full five minutes after her eyes sprang open. Her shower was short, succinct. By the time her coffeemaker finished brewing into her only mug, the familiar sound of the newspaper smacking against the front door kept the pace. She opened the door, let out the cat, refilled the outdoor feeding bowls and brought in the paper. At her small table, she sipped her coffee and perused _The Guardian_ until the clock radio stopped sounding. Dressing in her usual fitted, blue button-up, khaki pencil skirt, and sensible brown shoes and belt, she pulled her hair into a tight bun, no make-up or jewelry, only a trench coat and handbag in sensible brown.

Locking the door behind her, she set for the bus stop, arriving in the queue at her normal time with the double-decker just rounding the corner. From the bus she took the commuter train to The Tube and once out of the Underground she held back at another bus stop to rummage through her purse. Pulling out her work ID, she leaned against the glass of a large, old-fashioned, red brick department store called Purge and Dowse Ltd., pressing her ID behind her, against the dusty glass, for the harried dummy to read.

She fell back into a bustling waiting room with people in lime-green robes weaving throughout the floor.

"Morning Elizabeth," the plump blonde receptionist sitting beneath a sign that read INQUIRIES greeted her.

"It's Lily," she groaned beneath her breath, lowering her head and making her way through the sea of patients, toward the lifts.

Fastening her trench, she rushed into the corner of the lift when the doors opened. Swiping her finger along a replacement tile on the wall, this one rough where the others were smooth, she was admitted into a department very few knew existed. Leaning back, she fell through a second concealed barrier, emerging in a stark white room, sopping wet from the Disillusionment waterfall installed as part of the second barrier. With the waterfall behind her, a naked eye swiveled before her attached to a door. Peering through it, the eye confirmed her identity and she was permitted.

Arriving in a sprawling lab, she removed her wand from her handbag and performed a drying spell. She unbuttoned her trench and replaced a white robe on a hook with her handbag and coat. Tucking her wand in the robe's pocket she made her way through the various workspaces in her department, RESEARCH AND DEVELOPMENT.

"Morning Evans," a young man in a white robe flashed a smile as she entered the canteen to grab a slice of toast and a cup of tea.

"Morning Prewett," she smiled in reply before taking a seat at the same table. "What's on the schedule today?"

"Evans," a stately looking witch inclined her head when Lily looked up.

"Morning Vance," she nodded.

"I need you in my office in five minutes," she stated before exiting.

"Yes Ma'am," she whispered wondering what her rarely present boss might want.

A quick, imploring glance at Prewett provided nothing but a shrug. So she performed a quick cooling charm, gulped down her beverage (sprayed a breath freshener) and followed.

"Close the door," Director Vance said without looking up from the parchment before her.

With the flick of her wand, the door shut silently as Lily took a seat.

"I am going to need a few strands of your hair."

"Ma'am?"

"You will be sacked today and I need a strand of your hair. Your discharge will be loud and humiliating."

"Excuse me, Ma'am?"

"In light of the circumstances, you may call me Emmeline. Welcome to OPs."

In Emmeline's silence, Lily's mind began to race. This couldn't be happening. For the last three years she worked in the secure lab at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. She'd originally applied for an Auror position, but was designated to R&D where her training was divided between Auror and Healer. She was grateful for the opportunity, finding that it honed skills that she rarely exercised with her less clever peers at Hogwarts, but it was steeped in monotony, her days and nights felt just as eventless as her mornings. But what Emmeline was saying was,

"Your time in the Research and Development division has come to an end, does that please you?"

"Yes," she shook her head and blinked. "I can't- I can't believe it. Are you sure?"

"Lily Evans you are astute, swift and intuitive. Those attributes alone make you a wonderful Auror. Combine those skills with your work yesterday and you can easily see why you were put through."

Emmeline was referring to the young woman who came in with her sister, with a curse causing her to scratch male names into her skin. Lily had left hospital in order to investigate her home and learned her husband had placed a curse on her. After relieving the curse, the authorities arrested her husband and sent him to Azkaban.

"It wasn't my best work," she offered, still in disbelief.

"You've thoroughly proven yourself. Congratulations."

"Thank you," tears welled in her eyes, "I can't think right now."

"You deserve this. You're an accomplished witch and will be a well-decorated Auror."

For the first time in three years, Lily felt her hair too severely tied and unraveled it. Running her fingers through the loose curls, she pondered her situation. Something about being able to let her hair down and the familiarity of her fingers in her scalp abated the overwhelming feeling and she wiped the tears from her eyes.

"I hope you don't think me-"

"I don't mind if you don't mind me tampering with your reputation with a few theatrics in the event of your sacking."

"No," she laughed, pulling a long strand of hair and handing it over. "Send her off properly."

"Pack your belongings, settle your affairs and Apparate to this address at 11pm."

"Tonight?" Her eyes opened wide, taking the scrap of parchment, memorizing the address and burning it with the tip of her wand.

Emmeline nodded, "And keep from this area for a few days, I suspect many patients will remember your dismissal."

She nodded standing up.

"Thank you Emmeline Vance, it was a pleasure working for you. I hope I will be given the honor of doing so, again, in the future."

Emmeline smiled sincerely and perhaps the first time to Lily's memory, before catching herself, allowing the façade of sternness to consume her once Lily took hold of the doorknob.

An hour later, as Lily tried a clandestine escape from the hospital, she couldn't help halting when she heard,

"How's your day going, Lily?"

The voice came from the plump, blonde witch who sat beneath the INQUIRIES sign. She'd been calling her Elizabeth for three years. But now, she regarded Lily warmly, with a small knowing smile on her face.

Lily smiled, leaving the hospital as she'd arrived, only with her long red hair cascading down her shoulders.

Back on the Muggle Underground and later on the Muggle double-decker, she retraced her route home, only hesitating once more when the bus driver shouted at her as she disembarked,

"For three years, young lady, I have seen you come and go exactly the same: severe, unsmiling and aloof. But today… today you're leaving work early, your hair is down, and there's a smile on your face. What's so different about today?" He grinned, finding her easy smile infectious.

"Everything," she whispered, tucking her hair behind her ear and heading in the direction of her home.

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><p>Feeling overworked and restless, James Potter strolled through Muggle London looking for release.<p>

He'd spent four weeks on assignment in Austria. He'd come out of it craving three things, Fish-N-Chips, a cellar temperature beer and a British bird. He was aware that he was knackered, and the thrall of his own bed in his own home was tempting, but the silence of his missing roommates, not all expected back for another three days, made him antsy.

You see, James Potter and his roommates, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew were all members of a secret group called Order of the Phoenix, usually referred to as OPs. The OPs was a small assemblage of accomplished wizards operating to eradicate Death Eaters and Dark wizards. And while members were away on assignment, it was best to keep occupied, for the nature of their work was dangerous.

As he rounded Charing Cross Road, he sighed. Where he was going was ensuring one thing, not that the Fish-N-Chips or the female clientele would be up to par, but that at least his beer would be refreshing and satisfying. The Leaky Cauldron came into view and he made his way inside, the light of the sun never penetrating the bar, giving his eyes a period of adjustment in the darkened environment.

"Hi Tom," he smiled, settling himself at the bar.

"James," the old, stooped barkeep smiled. "I haven't seen you in a while."

"You know me, just out tasting the local flavors." He winked.

"Oh, to be young," Tom smiled knowingly, pouring James's favorite single malt Scotch.

"I appreciate it," James smiled, savoring the first, warm and sobering sip.

His roommates weren't new acquaintances made by the nature of their work. In fact, they had a long history, having known one another for over a decade. It was their friendship that impacted their careers, not the other way around.

He'd met Sirius when they were so young that neither could remember their first meeting. They grew up together, eventually resembling brothers in both looks and temperament. Over the years they created mischief, never once hesitating to the other's aid, even in dicey situations. They were inseparable and similar, so when James revealed his ambition to be an Auror in Fifth year, it was no surprise when Sirius echoed the same vocation. As Aurors they worked together on several operations, but on the missions when they were parted, the agitation was palpable.

On their first journey on the Hogwarts Express, Sirius and James met Remus and they became fast friends. After a couple of years of deep friendship they couldn't ignore his regular absences and they finally revealed knowledge of his lycanthropy. It was this "furry little problem" that cemented the fortitude of their group. They'd deemed themselves the Marauders and worked tirelessly to make Remus's life easier. They'd illegally become Animagus to help his transformations while at Hogwarts and they celebrated his induction in the OPs for weeks. In fact, he had become the group's stabilizer once their OPs missions kept them from regular contact.

The last roommate, Peter, was the most understated and misunderstood of the group. Although he had apparent misgivings, his ability to navigate tactile situations and operate undetected made him invaluable on the field. He was unremarkable in most respects, less clever, less adept at magic, and less confident, but his ability to escape scrapes has saved his friends from danger and even death more than once.

As he finished his Scotch, a pint of his favorite beer, Red Banshee, appeared in front of him. Nodding to Tom, he took a drink, savoring the first libations he's had in four weeks.

While on assignment stimulants and depressives were strictly forbidden. Even wine as part of a role required a drop of Alcohol Dissipating Drops and exceptional acting.

In fact all assignments contained an exhaustive amount of acting, and it was a relief to sit on a bar stool, drink Red Banshee and be himself.

He turned toward the clientele, nodding at various witch and wizards spending time at the famed watering hole. Few seemed to be foreign, like the family of blonde haired, round cheeked Germans all speaking loudly in a large booth over pints of butterbeer. Others seemed very local, like the two hipster Korean men who quietly drank together, their thoughtful expressions making James chuckle as he assumed a first date gone downhill. And some a part of the décor, he thought nodding at the wizard in dusty grey robes who was a permanent fixture spending his days and nights talking to Tom with a half drank tumbler of Firewhiskey.

Turning to the bar, a sigh of release prompted his next swallow.

Suddenly, and quite raucously, the front door of The Leaky Cauldron wretched open, the blaring light of the setting sun obscuring the identity of the person, but their silhouette was most definitely feminine. James shielded his eyes but followed the easy curves of the thin frame with an easy smile.

It seemed his third craving would be met.

"Tom, Fish-N-Chips," James ordered, just as the young woman clamored into the building and settled herself at the bar.

"Barkeep," she whimpered loudly from her seat a few away from James. "Martini straight up!"

When his eyes readjusted to the dark room again, he could see her more clearly.

She was positively rumpled. Her blue shirt opened at the neck and slightly wrinkled, her skirt turned askew, and the heel to one of her low-heeled shoes missing. She was dressed as a Muggle. Her hair pulled back severely, but errant strands sticking to her moist cheeks. She'd been crying with small patches of moistened cloth on her shirt and the coat she folded over her handbag and on the seat beside her.

Despite her harried appearance, she was absolutely stunning. Her hair was a dark shade of red, contrasting beautifully with her pale complexion. Light splashing of freckles peppered her milky skin. Her body was athletic and feminine, lean muscle and impeccable posture evident beneath her form-flattering attire.

"Excuse me," James tried, knowing that she would be able to distract him for the night. "Are you alright?"

When she turned to him, with the indignant look on her face, as though offended by his attention, he faltered for a moment.

He'd anticipated her beauty, but he didn't expect those eyes: large, round, a clear, intense green, sucking him in so completely in those portals.

"Obviously I'm not," she groaned, she had a sodden tissue in her hand.

Unsure of what that meant he was relieved when she continued,

"I've been sacked, haven't I. Wouldn't even let me take me robes. Like I am some kind of embarrassment!" She wailed before bringing the martini to her lips.

"May I ask your name?" He asked after a beat, an inward grin developing as she finished the whole martini in only a few gulps.

"Wotcher on about?" she frowned again, ordering another.

"Nothing, I was just wondering why you would be sacked. You seem competent for any job."

"I know," she downed the second martini, exchanging seats with her handbag, moving a seat closer to James. "My name is Lily Evans- by the way- I gave them three good years of my life. I was a bloody Healer-in-training, that's not an easy gig to just get! People don't just up and become Healers! I was **phenomenal** at Hogwarts. I was Head Girl and I dated the Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and I was the cleverest at Potions. I could be a Potions master, I could…" she rambled on, the martinis taking affect already.

OK, she might have looked competent, but right now she seemed a little dim. He didn't even know if he could believe what she was saying.

Remus had been Head Boy of their year and James had been Chaser of Gryffindor's Quidditch team. Considering how well he knew Dumbledore, he doubted that Dumbledore would appoint someone like her to such a position. Hell, he even doubted that she'd been a Gryffindor at all. He didn't recognize her name and she was only a few years below him… she was probably a Hufflepuff.

"… I spent a term at Beauxbatons, having affairs with the most handsome Frenchmen you will **ever** meet. I am a great witch!"

It could only be assumed that her mention of affairs ruffled the German family because they quickly threw down some galleons, gathered their things and left the bar squawking and sending angry looks in her direction.

"Yea, you should get out of here," she turned in her seat calling after them. "Go on children! You'll find you work so hard for something and some little **twat** will come in and take it all away. Life will show you!"

She turned back to her drink, looking at it strangely upon finding the glass dry.

"Barkeep, another!" She said louder than was prudent, "… But they can't appreciate innovation, can they… Sorry, I didn't catch your name?" she turned back to James.

"I never said," he pulled another easy smile, wholly confident in his appeal. "My name is James Potter."

As Tom slid the third martini in her vicinity, James saw a tiny flicker of recognition flash in her beautiful eyes. But catching herself quickly, she turned toward her martini and spoke quietly as she sipped,

"You have beautiful eyes."

"Why thank you," he grinned, knowingly. "I was going to say the same to you."

"I did a good job," she turned back to him again, regarding him intently as she seemingly disregarding his compliment. "I was clever and I was good. One affair shouldn't ruin ones career, especially when… How would I know he was married? And why I would I even ask?"

"You were sacked for sleeping with your boss?"

"His old lady blabbered about it. And then, because she's rich and on the Board of Directors at St. Mungo's, she comes up with these complaints. Only one person has ever **died** in my care, and it wasn't my bloody fault! The other _complaints_ are sheer fabrications!"

James had to turn to keep himself from laughing aloud. She didn't catch it, for this is when her hiccups began.

"Excuse me, I'm going to hic nip to the loo," she stood from her seat, quite wobbly for two reasons: one, those two and a half martinis were catching up with her and two, the broken heel didn't make stability any easier.

Taking her purse, she spent a few moments in the loo, eventually wobbling back to the bar, this time taking one seat closer to James, who'd received his Fish-N-Chips in her absence.

"Oh chips," she cried, "May I?" she indicated taking one while pulling her half drank martini to the space before her new seat.

"Sure." He nodded, hoping the fried food would calm her boisterous inebriation.

But instead, she ordered another martini before finishing the one she had.

"Oh I love chips," she savored the flavor of the salted potato. "I'm Muggle born, you know. In summers my mates and I would slag around the city and eat Fish-N-Chips. London is beautiful in the summer."

"Yea," he smiled, taking her in.

"Tell me about yourself. You're a Hogwarts alum, aren't you?"

"Yea," he ordered another Red Banshee and told her a little about himself.

By the time he was done regaling some interesting anecdotes from his Hogwarts days, she had already began to sober up, hitting the loo another time before taking the seat directly next to him. Her remaining martinis forgotten as she appeared enthralled in his stories, her hand every-so-often squeezing his knee.

"Are you feeling a little, tired?" she moved closer to him, practically moving onto his lap.

"You've just read my mind," he pushed his hair out of his face, feigning a yawn.

She mimicked his reaction before moving to his ear,

"This place has rooms upstairs. How 'bout I meet you in one after I go and powder me nose?"

"Sure," he drawled, indicating to Tom for the check as Lily left, taking her purse and coat with her to the loo.

.

When she'd finally drifted off, James carefully escaped the bed, thoroughly uncomfortable with the situation.

Their night together was perhaps the most awkward coupling he'd ever experienced. Although the food helped to sober her up, and the setting aside of her broken heels improved her stability, something was off about her performance.

When they crashed into the room, wrapped in a frantic lip-lock, she was giggling the whole time. Every time he touched her, she started, tickled as if unsure of her erogenous zones. By the time he was pulling her shirt from her skirt, she'd pushed him off, heading toward the loo with her purse again.

When she finally returned, she moved quite like she had before she left, as though she were uncomfortable- or unsure- in her own skin. Her body moved awkwardly beneath him and mechanically above him. She didn't move well. She didn't seem as though she had experience moving this way. He did most of the work; she just didn't seem to know how to move her hips or legs or… It was like it was her first day in that body.

TBC…

A/N: Chapter title was taken from a song by Florence and the Machine (whose music is their own, of course).

With love, again,

Yo-yo


	3. Collarbone

Jagged Red Pill

-By Yo-yo

A/N: Hi all, I hope you've liked my new story. I am having so much fun writing it, and I hope you're having just as much fun reading it. I'm staggering the chapters, while also giving myself a buffer as I write. I'm currently working on Chapter 5, so hopefully I can maintain this momentum throughout this story. I was excited to see two more reviews, but c'mon guys, I know you can do better! The story will only get more kick-ass if only you'd give me a little more support.

To **BlueJeanMistress** and **summertimewriter**, I'd first like to say thanks for your reviews. And to BlueJean, besides the fact that I LOVE your name, I'd encourage you to re-read chapter 1 a little more closely. If you figure it out, also, don't report it through reviews, but I think I've laid enough of a hint. But your review made me giggle… Only because I might be slightly crazy.

Don't forget to Review, Review, Review!

With love,

Y

Chapter 2- Collarbone:

"…So what are you going to do?"

The ingenuous query was whispered so quietly that she nearly didn't catch it as it traversed the short space between them.

Lily brought the ceramic mug to her lips as she contemplated the answer.

They shared a small table in a café. The establishment was too busy for the relaxation the ambiance meant to foster. People were constantly coming and going, the tinkling of ceramic-wares was slightly distracting and they played some emotional, emotion-less drivel called music. This trendy café wasn't really her style, but the young woman sitting before her had chosen it, and was picking up the check.

"I don't know," she set down her mug.

"Can you transfer to another hospital?"

She rolled her eyes and laughed wryly, "I don't think I could have made a more public exit. I don't suppose the news might have reached Portsmouth?"

"So you don't think you can get something local?"

She shook her head and sighed.

"Are you going to come back to class?"

"I wonder if it's worth it?"

Lily didn't elucidate further for the young woman sitting across from her. Liza nodded at the statement as though she understood, but Lily knew she didn't, not really.

"I guess it might not be for you," Liza looked down into her teacup, seemingly contemplating her own reflection. "You're so talented. I'm the one at the bottom of the class."

"Have you been practicing at home?" she segued to deflect the attention from herself and all the uncertainties occupying her thoughts.

"Yea, but it just doesn't compare, does it?" Liza looked up into Lily's eyes, her brows knitting as she searched Lily's closed expression. "I applied to classes at the wrong time. I should have signed up next term, that topic is just more my speed.

"I tried hiring a person to hex," she continued, tugging on a large Botticelli curl, a nervous habit of hers, "but he left soon after I failed to reverse the deceitful defecation hex. He literally shat every time I begged him to let me try. To know that someone would still lie to me about my skill, knowing the result of that decision, makes me sad."

"Oh Liza, I'm sure that wasn't it. On the lighter side, you're braver than most. I've seen those adverts in the DP and I'm always scared I'll get a death eater-"

"Which is why I learned the deceitful defecation hex."

"But you've got moxie, young lady."

"Well, it was either that or ordering one of those animated dummies."

"Don't!" Lily quickly protested. "It's impossible to discern the credibility of the vendors. Most generic brands have an unstable deflection potion. At least twice a week St. Mungo's deals with someone who's been knocked out by their own training dummy. Priori Incantum is rarely reliable in such cases. They have to call the lab to work on such finicky cases."

Liza frowned. "I've only heard negative things about them too. Why didn't I just take dueling classes at Hogwarts? I'm such chicken shit."

"Stop being self-deprecating."

"Yes," she shifted her shoulders instantly, indicating she'd been told something similar, before. "Are you thinking of taking up some Muggle profession, leaving us?"

"No way!" Lily cried, finally looking up at the young woman sitting before her.

Liza's long, curly bush of blonde hair tumbled down her shoulders and framed her anxious expression. Every part of her face conveyed anxiety. Her brown eyes stared into Lily's imploring for validation. Her eyebrows were arched, wrinkling the skin of her young forehead. Her thin lips were quirked as she chewed on the inside of her cheek, another nervous quirk Lily had noticed the first day they met.

Liza was a couple years younger. They met only a couple of months ago, during their first class together. Lily, a seasoned student by that point, noticed the glaringly obvious look of apprehension on Liza's visage and smiled encouragingly before taking the young girl under her wing. They worked together as partners and became fast friends. Lily learned that Liza graduated from Hogwarts with barely passing marks, and spent the two years after school working in her mother's robes shop, until she finally relented that times were changing and she really needed to bolster her defensive skills.

"Ted will miss you, anyway," Liza spoke over their silence.

"Only because I've been at that bloody school so long he's not used to seeing me not there. I'm as reliable as the bloody rain," she joked in self pity, flicking the tag on her teabag. "I mean, I've been there longer than him."

"Now look at who's being self-deprecating?!" Liza quirked her brow.

"I've just made a mess of everything, haven't I?" Lily pushed her hair from her face. "I'm just so disappointed in myself."

"Oh Lily, don't worry about it. I told you, my Mum has some contacts. We can find you something straight away."

"That's very kind," she brought the mug back to her lips to hide the burgeoning tears.

"It'll be alright," Liza leaned over the table and touched her arm. "On the bright side, it means you can date now? I have a hot friend that's perfect for you."

Lily laughed out loud, a drop of tea spilling down her face and she wiped it away quickly. "Oh, Liza."

"He really is. He's successful, makes lots of money. He's way too dapper for me, however, if I were in your league, I would snatch him up myself."

"Dating is a wonderful luxury for which I would love to indulge."

"Then I'll set you up."

"You will do no such thing. I am unemployed and terrible company right now. I promise you, when I am ready for indulgence, I will call you first."

"Did I not say that my hot friend is looking for a personal assistant?"

"You should probably apply then, you should know I am terrible at taking orders."

"And that's why Ted will miss you. You're the only one who never listens to a word he says."

"Stop flattering me, Liza. How about we work together next weekend? I can deflect the deceitful defecation hex."

* * *

><p>Three years after training out of the safe-house in Tinworth, they were granted access to OPs headquarters. It was his first time in the Muggle Underground, even though he hadn't taken any trains. From The Leaky Cauldron he followed Dumbledore's instructions North on Strand Street to Surrey Street, entering the magical passageway installed in the decommissioned Aldwych Station.<p>

He followed the tiled staircase deeper into the vestiges of Muggle architectural ingenuity. Taking time to explore the old railway station, he marveled at what Muggles were able to do, _manually_. A section of the tunnel revealed a great steel skeleton of the gutted serpent that made up the tunnel work. As the years progressed, he and the Marauders explored the serpentine caverns, reveling in the intricacies Muggles were able to construct, _without magic_.

The entrance to headquarters was a door labeled SIGNAL BOX. To gain admittance one only needed to rearrange the letters.

Inside was a rotunda with offices, training rooms and kitchen spoked off the main room. Headquarters was paneled in warm, dark boiserie. Torches set the glossy wood alight, creating flickering, gilded reflections. The furniture comprised of comfortable, overstuffed seating, a long, scrubbed wooden table and a great fire, creating the illusion of being back in a common room at Hogwarts.

If he were on duty, his first stop would be to Moody's office.

But he'd spent the night in Moony's office, and had only nipped to the kitchen for a steaming mug of coffee before heading back.

Moony's office was reminiscent of his preferred workspace while at Hogwarts: a balance of cozy, comfortable and chaotic. Every surface in the large room turned office was burdened with books, quills, parchment and items that seemed to be rubbish.

His position within the Order suited him. Always studious, reserved and determined, his efforts were never quite as appreciated as they were now, when his resourcefulness and dogged work ethic made their missions safer. If he couldn't necessarily go out into the field, he was making sure that he was thoroughly essential off of it.

"Hey Moony," he mumbled, walking into the office and dropping onto the couch there.

Moony's office concealed a bedroom in a wardrobe where he took refuge when his apartment didn't feel like home. Incidentally everyone knew, but no one had the heart to tell him that he had no secrets within the Order.

"So tonight I took to my bed only to find you in it… and I had to sleep on the couch like some mis-behaved husband," Moony said with his back turned.

"I didn't feel like going back to the flat. Everyone's away."

"While the team is a little busy, you stealing my station of rest, after being awake for thirty-six hours, might be considered a little cold-hearted."

"Oh come off it," James sipped his coffee, "You'll probably just turn your time turner a few times…"

"Not the point James," he moved his quill along the parchment before him.

"Do you know when we will get our reprieve? We have been out on missions for an obscene amount of time recently. Are we ever going to see one another again?"

"We have been slammed with assignments," Remus agreed, setting down his quill and swiveling away from his desk.

"Don't I know it," James groaned, pushing back his fringe.

Shortly after returning from Austria, he was told to return. He spent another month abroad, missing his reunion with his roommates by hours.

"You just missed Padfoot now. He left for a week and a half with Hestia."

"And Wormy?"

Remus's sigh somehow seemed more exhaustive than the last, while a frown carved deep grooves into his forehead.

"Mad-Eye's moved him to another group, temporarily. Marlene's pretty miffed about their last mission."

"What happened this time?" James took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"They were in Sweden and during lookout he just couldn't help himself…"

"All that dairy?" He replaced his glasses.

"He says when he's in rat form he can't help when he gorges himself. He spent time paying tribute to the porcelain throne and was late for his mark. Luckily for him, Lenie's quick on her feet. But Moody thinks he could use more training, he's with Shacklebolt."

"He's a sucker for cheese in any form," James offered.

"He's an adult now."

"Despite his failings, he is effective when working with us."

"He's not an Auror: he can't carry his own mission and it's not in the nature of this organization to have regular partners. It isn't safe."

"What's going to happen to him?"

"They haven't said, but it's really getting out of hand. If we could corral him like at Hogwarts…"

"But we're not The Marauders anymore."

A moment of silence followed in the wake of truth. They were trying their best to spend time together, but as this war waged on, it was getting harder and harder to stay on top of one another, not to mention keeping Peter in line.

"In other news, I think Hestia fancies Sirius," Remus broke the silence.

"I believe you fancy Marlene."

"And back to topic, she's been hanging around here asking about him and she volunteered her help on this mission."

"Do you think she's that hard up?"

"I think she's either revisiting a delirium she'd suffered from her days at Hogwarts… or yea, she's in a major dry spell."

"Do you see this ending terribly?"

"Knowing Sirius?" Remus frowned.

They nodded in agreement.

"So where's your debriefing fling?"

James shrugged.

"Met some witch at The Leaky Cauldron, had a… time… and I came back here."

"Oh, so that last time that you took my bed was after shagging? That's disgusting."

"You weren't in it."

"I think I'll add another bed and use a shielding spell to keep you dirty blokes from mucking it up."

"That's a good idea."

"By the way, we have a new recruit."

"Any good?"

"She's still under review; I suspect she's at Tinworth. I hear she's got a background in Healing."

"That'll be helpful."

"Initiation and induction are scheduled for a fortnight."

"I'll be away," he stood up, and moved toward the wardrobe.

"I'll talk to Moody," Moony frowned sympathetically, following his friend with his eyes.

* * *

><p>"Oh no, I'm late," she cried, bursting through the front door, pulling down her tank, and hopping over the arm of the couch into the open seat.<p>

"You've missed the opening, and now they're conducting a colonoscopy."

"Sounds like I'm back at work," she grinned, spooning a scoop of ice cream from the opened half gallon on the coffee table.

"Your lot need colonoscopies?"

Lily rolled her eyes. "Tuny, do you know how 'your' lot likes to stick things up noses? Sometimes 'my' lot likes to stick foreign objects up other orifices, and if there are no competent people to extract them, it becomes a job for someone in my field."

"At the bank?" she queried, looking quite puzzled.

"Yes, Petunia, my work, at the **bank** concerns colons, sometimes…" she rolled her eyes again while shifting in her seat, trying to find a comfortable position.

"You never know what your lot are up to. Why are you late anyway? I haven't seen you in over a month, and when I finally do, you're late for our special night."

"I received a promotion at work," Lily pushed her drying curls from her face. "I'm finally in my last week of training, and they've been scheduling me at all hours. It's less nine to five than my last position."

"At the bank." Petunia nodded.

"Yes, sister, at the bank," she laughed.

"Well, in celebration of your promotion, I will tell you what you've missed. Apparently, our new friend Mel, who we've obviously known our whole lives, has coerced the Doctor to take us to Berlin and kill Hitler."

"Ooh," Lily squealed, clapping happily.

"You know something delicious, don't you?" Petunia frowned, pushing her sister.

"Well, don't be upset with me," she groaned. "My job at… the bank… involves cracking many codes… I pieced things together after the last episode."

"Is it juicy?"

"It only proves that River Song is extra awesome."

"You only love her because she's Alex Kingston and she has those crazy curls."

"Alex Kingston is amazing and she does it all with bodacious curls. If only I were that cool."

"You have River hair, I wish I had Amelia's legs, I would always be wearing minis."

"You do have Amelia's legs. They're like pencils sticking out of your torso." Lily swatted her sister.

"Do not! You have those legs, those are Mum's legs."

"No, you have Da's legs, and his legs are like Amelia's. It's why he always wore trousers, even during holidays. Mine are too muscular, very much like Mum's legs."

"Ok, I'll concede as long as you don't comment on the mini I purchased last weekend," she grinned, pulling up the flannel material of her sister's pajama trouser legs, only to gasp instead. "Blimey, Lily, you're black and blue!"

"I told you," she quickly pulled down the material and stood up, "I'm in training."

"Is that what they do to you at the bank? It looks like they're torturing you." Petunia searched her sister's matching green eyes.

"Petunia," she avoided her sister's gaze by heading for the kitchen. "You know bloody well I don't work for a flippin' bank!"

"But Lily, even if… no one should be-"

"No," Lily returned with a glass of water. "Tuny, we won't discuss the nature of my work, we all agreed to that when I moved in. All you need to know is that the bruises will be gone by morning. Now let's get back to Squishy-face, who's actually grown on me this season."

"Only because you're fond of men in bowties," Petunia took Lily's segue in stride.

"'Bowties are cool,'" Lily took another spoonful of ice cream.

* * *

><p>Somehow she always managed to make routines.<p>

She blamed it on the women in her family. Her mother and Petunia were notorious planners, and after years of resisting the pull of habit, she found the only way to maintain sanity through training was to allow time for relaxation. So today, when her eyes snapped open at the rhythmic beating of Daft Punk's "One More Time," to a dark apartment, the only light sources being the streetlamp and the tiny red and neon indicators from appliances, she thanked the Evans women for teaching her the art of preparation.

Heading first for the loo she drew a bath. Next to her bed she turned off the alarm. Moving to the floor, she allowed the running water to act as her playlist as she started in Mountain Pose. When she was properly stretched, content with the amount of popping and cracking coming from her limbs, she took her fresh coffee into the bath, disrobed and allowed the scalding heat to overtake her.

Looking through the water, indeed, Petunia's reaction wasn't unfounded. Her skin was polka dotted with large welts, bruises and angry burns. She'd left the last training like this, prolonging the pain for as long as she could. The wounds were both a testament to her hard work and a reminder of where she was still lacking.

It also reinforced Mad-Eye's "Constant Vigilance" mantra, keeping her centered.

She pulled on her trainers, checked the outdoor food bowls, kicked more unread copies of _The Guardian_ under the table, and grabbed the hiding cat. Locking the door behind her, she settled him on a stair and began her jog half a mile, as Moody advised, to Disapparate to the safe-house.

The night was mild. Her senses were on alert. Only barking dogs and the pounding of her trainers on the pavement broke the silence.

She was rounding the corner of Paisley Road when a giant dog with glowing yellow eyes loped into view. For a moment, she allowed herself to entertain the hope that this was an impotent domestic who was celebrating its escape from the yard. But she wasn't stupid, its great size and unprovoked snarl denoted something sinister.

It lunged at her.

The dog miscalculated her height, crashing over her, with the brunt of its attack missing by centimeters. But its paws managed to connect, ripping angry gashes in her arms, throwing back her shoulder painfully. Despite the pain, both were quick to regain footing so the next attack missed her completely.

Pulling her wand from the space in her bust, she pointed at the large dog,

"_Impedimenta_," she cried, missing the dog that seemed to anticipate her moves.

She learned why as he lunged at her for the fourth time, transforming into a man, mid-attack, catching her off guard and managing to knock her to the ground. Her hesitation became his advantage as he leaned over her, but unluckily for him, she was Muggle-born and well-versed in the art of hand-on-hand combat, swiftly throwing him off, effectively trading expressions.

Retrieving her fallen wand, just as a purple whip of energy slapped the asphalt next to her, the heat so close it seared the skin on her arm. Taking off in a run she flung and countered jinxes, red and purple streams of light streaking between them in the quiet Muggle neighborhood. Adrenaline pumped through her, as she threw a fireball and a sheet of ice, both managing to miss her target.

Finding a place behind a tree she bided time as her mind raced. Remembering the look of surprise when she threw him off, she knew what she had to do.

As a chunk of the tree exploded, she launched in the direction of the hex, straight for him. Using his confusion against him, she pointed her wand and he caught the brunt of her curse square in the chest, falling instantly to the ground, his wand rolling out of his slackened hand.

Cold sweat pouring from her, she approached the wizard swiftly.

_Constant Vigilance_, she heard in her mind's eye as she kneeled over him, tucking his wand down the front of her top.

He was a young wizard, with long black hair and something familiar about his fine bone structure.

Pulling a thin, bi-fold from her sports bra, she opened it and jabbed it with her wand.

"Show me confirmed Death Eaters."

Like a Muggle rolodex, photos flipped rapidly in succession, trying to match his face with someone in its database.

"Show me suspected Death Eaters."

She stabbed the paper again, this attempt also fruitless.

"Show me former Azkaban prisoners!"

Nothing.

Finally, unsure what to do, unsure of whom she'd just apprehended and why they were attacking her, she did the only thing she knew.

"_Petrificus Totalus_," she whispered, tearing his robes to make a blindfold and using _Waddiwassi_ to stick old gum from the pavement in his ears. Relocating her humerus bone to her scapula, she grabbed him by the collar of his robes and Disapparated.

Apparating to the only safe-house she knew, she ended up on the steps of a small cottage in Tinworth.

Entering swiftly she was astonished to find Mad-Eye Moody, Albus Dumbledore, Hestia Jones, and Edgar Bones all beaming at her as she awkwardly hauled the paralyzed man through the front door.

"Congratulations!" They shouted and she burst into tears.

Sweat was still pouring out of her, blood still seeped from the scratches, her heart was pounding in her chest, her shoulder was throbbing where it had been dislocated, her breathing was on the verge of hyperventilating… and it had all been a test.

"Who is this?" she laughed and cried all at the same time.

"It's Sirius Black, a member of Moody's team. You can let him down now."

She dropped him unceremoniously, only realizing her mistake when he landed like a brick, bringing her back to her wits. Leaning down, and whispering an apology, she untied his blindfold, unbound his body, and dislodged the gum from his ears. When he finally gathered the strength to stand, he moved away from her,

"Bloody brilliant," he gaped.

"How'd she do it?" Moody asked, thumping Sirius on the back.

As Sirius began the story of finding Lily jogging like a common Muggle in the street, Lily looked away.

It wasn't the attack that was getting her.

It was its proximity to her home.

In her line of work, she knew an attack was just 'round the corner. Someone would eventually be able to identify her as she gained higher clearance.

But the attack, so near her home, the place that she had hoped to so painstakingly protect against magic's energy, felt so vulnerable as she stood here now, her body still humming from a mixture of exertion and pain.

"Fantastic job," Dumbledore said and pat her back.

His hands pulled her back and she smiled gratefully. She hadn't seen him since her Hogwarts days and had no idea he was affiliated with the OPs as he hated the Ministry of Magic's way of dealing with problems.

"I couldn't be prouder," Mad-Eye hugged her roughly, "I didn't expect you back for ages. But when I heard you Apparate, I just knew… Good work!"

"I felt like you were with me the whole time," she pushed back her curls.

"Constant Vigilance?" Moody smiled.

"Fine words my friend," she grinned, pressing a kiss to his rough cheek.

"Traumatizing, id'nit?" Hestia offered her a knowing smile.

"Uh huh." Lily pulled Sirius's wand from her chest and throwing it to him.

Wiping the tears from her face, she asked, "Does anyone have any chocolate?"

Sirius came up to her, wrapped his arm around her and passed one of the tumblers of Firewhiskey that he held.

She nodded thank you as they clinked glasses, and downed it on one gulp.

"Ready for another go?" Moody asked with a wicked grin.

Lily took the chocolate Hestia offered her and took a bite. Feeling her strength regenerate, she stood tall. Squaring her shoulders, she turned to him, offering him a saucy smile,

"Is that all you've got?"

A loud roar of cheers ripped through the safe-house and they celebrated until early in the afternoon.

She was now an official member of the Order of the Phoenix.

TBC…

A/N: Chapter title was taken from a song by Fujiya & Miyagi (whose music is their own, of course).

It only takes a moment to review, and it lasts a lifetime in my heart! If you want, I can send you virtual cookies… but I'm not actually sure how that works… I think your browser just does it automatically, if it's set up that way?

With love,

Yo-yo


	4. The First Day of My Life

Jagged Red Pill

-By Yo-yo

A/N: Thank you **mary**, **lilalex13**, **BlueJeanMistress**, **anon**, **sweetbean23**, **summertimewriter**, **anonnnn**, **patrioticangel**, and **Forbular** for your reviews. Virtual cookies for you! In addition to making me happy and confirming that I'm writing something that people have a positive response to, your questions are helping me round out some of the characters and situations to make for a better story, I hope.

In response to some questions and comments: **mary** and **BlueJeanMistress**, you should be friends. Some of your fellow reviewers have figured it out, so just read the reviews. Lol. **Lilalex13**, **patrioticangel**, and **Forbular**, your responses to the Lily and Petunia relationship make me smile. I always wondered how two siblings could be so estranged, as Lily and Petunia are, and hate the stereotypical characterizations in most fanfictions. Hopefully my interpretation of their relationship sets a precedent, because it just never made sense to me in the books. **Anon** and **summertimewriter** it's already written and one of my favorite scenes so far, I hope you agree! **Anonnnn**, merci beaucoup!

And **sweetbean23**, you get your own paragraph. In response to your question, this is my answer: Yes, completing a mission before being inducted seems a little like jumping the gun, but after thinking about it obsessively, which I assure you I've been doing with this story for months now, I've surmised that it's an important part of the initiation process for OPs, which the training process really is. She's been 'training' for three years… she should already be skilled in terms of covert ops and the like. We know that as part of her Auror/R&D/Healer training she did recon work (that labored story concerning Languoreth and Riderch), so I have allowed that Lily is fully trained to be an Auror once she's left St. Mungo's and that the process of 'training' is simply a set of challenges to test her mettle (like sending Sirius to attack her). It wasn't a particularly difficult mission, mind you, it was just a retrieval of information from a vampire that's known for being too chatty… Basically that was part of her initiation. I hope that was a sufficient answer. I loved that question…

Your reviews are so helpful. Please remember to leave a line or two once you've finished reading. Btw, this chapter is a teensy shorter than I'd like, but there's just too much going on in it for me to continue without sensory overload… Hope you like it!

-Y

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><p>Chapter 3- The First Day of My Life:<p>

"…I was Head Boy."

"I was Head Girl!" she laughed.

"Did your mates abuse your power the way my mates had?"

"Isn't that the point of having the most powerful student in school as an ally? I was thoroughly exploited in my last year, but to be fair, I was pretty complacent. I threw a pool party in the Room of Requirement."

"Nice one!" Remus raised a brow, "In my year I was fairly sure that only me mates knew it existed-"

"Oh no!" she interrupted him laughing. "Have little faith in the curiosity of spotty youth. I am not sure how many knew what it really ways, they were too busy getting off, but in the adverts I called it the senior prefects' lavatory. Very few ever found it again."

"Clever girl. I exploded Greenhouse number three by having the entire class cram inside and performed Engorgio charms during final ceremonies."

"That was you? That was disco! I was rubbish at Herbology and I went home praying the damage permanent. I told my Mum and she was incensed. She had a nursery and sold flowers."

"My mum nearly murdered me in front of the audience. It took Dumbledore and Sodrick to calm her down."

"Mums are great." A ghost of a smile moved over her face as she remembered hers.

For hours now, Lily and Remus discussed any and everything like old mates. In his well lit, yet darkly decorated office, Lily and Remus's backs curved toward one another, like quotation marks, confining their dialogue between them. Never an awkward silence, neither a lack of topic, found rest in the swift river that was their first ever conversation.

She'd learned that three years separated them at Hogwarts, his friends were the infamous Marauders she vaguely remembered, and that he'd been recruited exclusively by Dumbledore for the R&D position. He'd learned that she had R&D experience, she'd taken a gap year after Hogwarts and currently lived in with her Muggle sister. They'd shared their love of Chocolate Frogs, their love of running on moonlit nights and had taken Muggle Studies, only Remus quit after O.W.L.s being unable to deal with Professor Minkus's obvious disdain for Muggles.

"It's a shame the wizard world has such low expectations of Muggles," she frowned in response. "But at least Dumbledore tries. Beauxbatons didn't even have a Muggle Studies Department."

When, much earlier, she'd first popped her head into his office, she'd only meant to ask if he'd received her R&D report. He had been hard at work, bent over his desk making notes on parchment as his eyes steadily regarded the book he was reading. She hadn't wanted to disturb him. But when he twirled around at her voice, and conjured a seat before him for her, she hadn't expected him to be so engaging and easy-going. As they talked she was surprised to find him so funny and open.

Remus had an utterly disarming demeanor. His ability to pull her into conversation and hold her interest without having to grasp for topics made her feel as though she were the only interesting person in the world. She knew this skill served him well and probably made him well-liked in every milieu.

_He would be excellent out on the field_, she thought.

His mild temperament, pale skin, sandy brown hair, thin and taut figure and easy smile emitted an aura of familiarity to anyone in his presence. Everything about him seemed safe and secure. But as she regarded him with the critical eye she was famous for, she knew that there was something in his kind brown eyes, a wildness that conveyed the opposite.

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><p>Feet slapping against the uneven terrain, she ducked swiftly as a fireball whipped past her, the flames so close that they singed the ends of her braid. In retaliation, she threw one back, feeling herself confronted with a bout of déjà vu.<p>

She was running through a forest. Dense vegetation offered her limited visibility by her opponent while her bare feet on the soft ground stifled her movements. She had the advantages, and yet she was still retreating.

Her back was to her opponent, opening her to attack and compromising her aim.

Ducking into a cave, she found her breath and her problem: she was always on the defensive. Her heart was pumping and mind racing as she receded from the fight. But it wasn't doing her any good. Even now, with the advantage of cover and stealth, she was running, retreating, giving up.

Every time she went home she was covered in bruises. She took them to bed with her, welcoming the ache. They were reminders of battles lost or won, confirmations of strengths and weaknesses. But mostly, in darkness of this cave illuminated now by truth, her abrasions were stories of her constant retreats, written by her cowardice, from the perspective of her inexperience.

If she ever wanted to be accomplished like Moody, she couldn't continue this way.

"Fuck this," she moved toward the fireballs using her stealth to hunt, rather than hide.

Dodging another fireball, she jumped out of the way, throwing another fireball and entered the clearing ready to duel.

In moments, ribbons of light stretched between them, reflecting off their faces like fireworks on a windshield. She wasn't practicing anymore as she pushed back, overtaking him until he crouched beneath her fervent attack.

"Lily, Lily, Lily!"

"Pardon my enthusiasm," she snapped out of it, extending her arm to help him up.

"Nice tactical reversal, it threw me off and gave you the upper hand," Sirius breathed standing. "Moody will be happy."

"It wasn't too… passionate at the end?" she swiped the sweat from her forehead and grabbed the frayed end of her braid.

"Not at all! On a mission, passion is the difference between life and death." He sent her a roguish grin.

"I'm sorry I was so hard on you, but you burned my hair." She pouted, petulantly.

"I am sincerely sorry, Madame," he grinned putting his arm around her shoulder, leading her out of the room, "It is such pretty hair."

Lily grinned and rolled her eyes.

After practicing with Sirius for the last two weeks, she had him pegged. In fact, soon after meeting him in Tinworth she felt like she'd known him her whole life. He wasn't overly complicated. His beautiful bone structure, long black hair, clear grey eyes, tall slim and athletic build, and easy confidence made him exceptionally attractive.

He seemed the type to have thrived at Hogwarts. Her vague memory of him at school reminded her that he was very popular with copious admirers. But she had no idea he had such a good nature and easy demeanor. His young, prankster sensibilities remained with him, even now. Despite the time that had passed, and the things he must have seen and done, Sirius Black was really just a boy at heart.

"So how do you think you did?" Moody turned to Lily and Sirius who sat in a darkened room before a wall-sized window that overlooked the training simulation room. As they sat in Moody's office, they watched their past selves conclude the training session.

"Brilliant," Sirius began.

"Black," he growled a warning.

"No really. She was quick to remove her trainers when she realized how they betrayed her. It was the primary reason I wasn't able to track her down."

"He could have if he'd transformed," she offered, sending him an apologetic look, "his sharpened senses would have picked up my scent and made his hearing more sensitive to my breathing and movement."

"That is true," Moody nodded.

"But that would be working under the assumption that all Death Eaters are illegal Animagus, which is unlikely. You must admit, she would have received top marks for her resourcefulness in Stealth and Training for that move. It came off smooth and calculated."

"It did illicit the desired effect, making it more easy to overcome him. That could save my life when dueling with a more capable wizard."

"And what prompted your new course of action?" Moody asked, wanting her to finally explain her transformation from victim to victor.

"I realized how ridiculous it was for me to run. I was wasting my efforts in escaping a situation when I should have been fighting. So I turned round and came back at him as hard as I could. I was giving my opponent too much insight into my weaknesses; I was giving them leverage. I shouldn't be giving them the time to read me. I realized that when the real thing came along, mistakes like that would be the difference between life and death… for me and my opponent."

"An astute assessment," Moody nodded.

"It was a clever finish," Sirius asserted. "She began to duel like an Auror and had me on bended knee before I eventually waved my white flag. She's coming along."

"It's been taken into account," Moody sent him a look. "Your defensive skills are impeccable, Lily. But you have relied on them for too long. Tomorrow we'll work on hand-to-hand combat. We'll pick up dueling again soon."

She nodded, pushing sweat soaked strands of hair from her face.

"We're finished here."

Lily stood up, "I'll find my way out."

"Did you complete your report for R&D?"

"Yes, we actually discussed a bit of it yesterday."

"Ok." He nodded as Sirius turned to him and began speaking.

Making her way to the lavatory, she found Hestia Jones washing her hands in front of the large mirror.

"Good afternoon, Hestia." She nodded, pulling a clean flannel from the rack.

"Hi Lily," she nodded, leaning against the wall as she called a towel with her wand and had it pat her hands dry for her.

"Are you starting or leaving shift?"

"I'm off duty, actually. I was looking for Sirius to see what he's up to."

"Sirius, huh?" Lily splashed her face with warm water, barely bothering to hide her smirk. "Have you two been together long?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about." She pushed her long sheet of silky black hair behind her, exiting the bathroom, but not without first flashing Lily an impish grin.

Lily laughed softly as she began to lather soap on her skin.

As she blotted her face dry, the door creaked open and Sirius poked his head in.

"Hey Lily, Hestia told me you were here. I know you're headed home, but we're having a small do at my place tonight, and you should come round."

"A do?"

"Don't worry, just me flatmates, Edgar and Hestia. Remus and I haven't seen James in ages. We usually commemorate such occasions with multiple kegs of Red Banshee. It'll be a laugh."

"Sure, I'd love to."

"Great. You should coordinate with Hestia and you can side Apparate to our flat."

"Tell her I'll be out in a moment."

"Aces." Sirius flashed a beaming smile before leaving.

Well, this was a change of events.

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><p>"Ohhhhhhh!" Sirius slammed his hand on the bar top, "I told you she was being sarcastic! You all owe me a shot!"<p>

"Noooo!" Lily groaned, swaying precariously.

"Blow me! You were soooooo smoooooooth." Hestia stumbled off the stool of her own accord.

"She was a bitch." Edgar moved to steady Hestia, talking about the young lady that had clumsily turned down Remus.

"Urgh!" Remus groaned, "Ok, let's see the first time we tried the motorbike!" He pulled the stumbling group by their collars.

"You just don't want to be embarrassed again. Toss one back, everyone," Sirius passed around glasses of Firewhiskey as they all stood around a stone basin filled with a substance neither liquid nor gas.

"3… 2… 1…" They all tossed back the shot before leaning over the platform and were pulled into another scene from Remus and Sirius's past.

Edgar, Hestia, Lily, Remus and Sirius landed on a stone tiled path to an impressive garage on a grand estate. It was a warm summer day with nary a cloud in the sky. Around them well manicured greenery made up the lawns, topiaries and gardens with a dense forest border. As they found their footing, a large wooden door opened to reveal four teenage men.

They were so clearly themselves. Young Sirius had long hair that fell over his gleaming eyes, which were wet and baggy perhaps in exhaustion because he yawned emphatically as he smiled enthusiastically at the boys that followed. Young James could easily pass for Sirius's brother. Only, his dark hair was shorter and impossibly tousled, his eyes light brown, his bone structure more strong than fine, and his slim athletic build more broad. Young Remus looked quite like his adult counterpart, the same brown eyes, short sandy brown hair, and lanky build. Only his complexion appeared waxen there, giving him an exhausted air. Young Peter was shorter than he'd been in more recent memories, but his longish blond hair, round frame and skittish blue eyes remained the same.

"… I finished at four this morning. It was only when Pokey came in that I realized… I realized I had run out of ol' sea shanties," young Sirius yawned again, tugging on his ill-fitting Wimbourne Wasp top.

"Yea, actually Mum sent Pokey down. Your cursing was distracting her sleep," young James said holding a bottle of champagne with him.

"She wasn't the only one suffering from your colorful language," young Remus groaned while pushing a highly polished motorbike into the sun.

"I dunno," a young Peter piped in munching on a croissant, "I enjoyed the limerick he made about Moaning Myrtle. Although it was a bit rude-"

"For my mother's virginal ears…" young James interjected, pushing young Sirius down the path.

"This is the summer before sixth year," Sirius pointed his finger while holding firmly the bottle of Red Banshee.

Tonight Edgar, Hestia, Lily, Remus and Sirius traveled through Marauder memories, reliving the antics of their youth while wagering shots of Firewhiskey on misremembered facts.

"We're at Potter Manor. Sirius spent the summer with James. Peter and I arrived the night before to finish out the holiday." Remus added.

"What's your bet, Moony?" Sirius asked, using his wand to refill his bottle.

"The eternal bet." Remus turned to his friend and smirked.

"Ok guys," Sirius yelled over the bickering teenagers, "Remus says it's my fault, I say it isn't. Pick a side."

"What's that mean?" Edgar frowned.

"That's as much description as you get." Remus grinned at their confused expressions.

"Just pick a side. Whom do you trust more?" Sirius asked.

Such a seemingly simple question was actually hard to answer. Naturally, of the two, Remus was more trustworthy. But over the course of the night, after multiple bets placed on the accuracy of the boys' memories, Sirius had proved the better bet, leading by two, making for a drunk Lily and Hestia, who'd most faithfully sided with Remus.

"Sirius." Edgar sided with the point leader.

"Sirius," a sickly looking Hestia conceded.

"Remus." Lily wrapped her arm around him and pressing a kiss to his cheek, keeping faith in him.

"Who's driving this bitch?" young Sirius asked, rubbing his eyes and a yawn overtaking him again.

"Way to be a chauvinist arse, Sirius," Lily elbowed Sirius in the ribs while stealing a sip of his beer.

"I was too young to know about women's lib and the like."

"It was the 2000s, ya' berk!"

"Did you fix the balance problem?" young James asked apprehensively.

"I was thinking of naming her Pisa."

"And the power thrust?" young Remus asked, kicking down the kick stand.

"It thrusts just fine, ya' tosser."

"And the sidecar?" young Peter added.

"That's your fault, porker, there's a weight limit."

"Belt up, ya' wanker!" young Remus admonished young Sirius. "Wormy, I'll fix it."

"C'mon, let's get this over with; I think a celebratory nap is due after the christening."

"Oh yea, Mum has volunteered you for Doxy removal this afternoon."

"I'm not a bloody house elf." Young Sirius groaned.

"She said something about learning the sacred principle of silence."

"Where's the fun in that?"

"Dad also believes it would help. He said something about stealth and Auror training." Young James added.

"I can't wait until I'm of age. Blah, blah, blah, you're Pisa." Young Sirius grabbed the bottle from young James and broke it over the chrome plated gas tank.

"Get on the bleedin' bike!" young Remus prodded young James.

"Actually, can I ride along? I've never been on a motorbike." Lily didn't wait for a response as she moved forward.

"Uh!" They cried as she sat inside, only to have young James jump on top of her.

When he sat, young James sat _through_ her, as if she were a ghost. But unlike being in a ghostly presence, neither one felt a physical interference as a result of the past and present converging.

Young Remus sat on the bike, turning on the engine and throwing back the kickstand. As the engine revved, a sensation Lily did not expect caused her stomach to drop. Instead of moving along the stone pavement, like she expected a motorbike to do, they rose into the air and went booming forward when young Remus applied the gas.

"This is not a Muggle motorbike!" She screamed as they zoomed through the air.

Young Remus zoomed through the air, directing free-falls, loops and upside down piloting as Lily held on for dear life (although she couldn't possibly get hurt, but that thought didn't assuage her fright). They were in the air for five minutes when her seat began to tremble; the high velocity of the bike wasn't compatible with the aerodynamics of the sidecar.

"Remus!" young James and Lily screamed at the same time, the violent vibration threatening along with the creaking of the metal attachment hardware.

Below, they heard yelling, and as all three looked down, young Sirius pointed his wand at the flying motorbike. From up high they couldn't discern the spell he uttered, but almost instantly, the sidecar broke away from the motorbike, young James flew off perpendicularly from the bike a mile before crashing through the trees in the forest.

Meanwhile, Lily fell straight down from the motorbike onto the lawn, rolled over and spilled the contents of her stomach before her co-workers.

"…your fault!" Remus's voice came closer as young Sirius, young Peter, Sirius, Hestia, and Edgar all moved in her direction.

"…was soo awesome!" young Sirius laughed.

"It was your fault." Hestia admitted, groaning at the glass bottle in his hand, knowing what would come soon.

"…I was trying to help! How was that my fault?" Sirius replied.

"…shouldn't have done that," young Peter groaned as young Remus zoomed in the direction of young James.

"I must agree." Edgar pat Sirius on the back.

Remus leaned over to rub Lily's back. To the others, he said, "I think it's time to go." And to Lily he smiled as she tore fistfuls of grass to wipe the sick from her mouth, "At least we won, no shot for you!"

As they'd done many times tonight, all five of them left the memory, and landed back in the Marauders' sprawling loft in downtown London.

"Where is James?" Hestia groaned, collapsing onto the couch. "It's been two hours!"

"More like three," Lily grabbed her stomach and flopped down beside Hestia, looking sickly.

"This is true," Sirius grinned, pouring Red Banshee into a pint glass. "Let me find out."

Heading to the loo, Edgar shook his head watching Sirius go with the glass. "I don't get how he does it. I'd be all sixes and sevens if I drank like that."

"He's been practicing for this moment his whole life." Remus laughed.

"Why did I trust him? He's such a tosser, why did I believe him?" Hestia groaned, a soft burp escaped her as she pulled a throw pillow to her stomach.

"He's an accomplished spy… It's in his job description." Lily rolled around the davenport in discomfort.

"My job description is to be able to detect that bullshit. Why couldn't I do that?"

"It's why we aren't allowed to drink on a mission," Edgar ruffled her hair in solidarity. "Moody insists there's some correlation between lowering inhibitions and common sense?"

"I always thought he was just being paranoid!"

"So James isn't answering," Sirius returned from the loo, "No biggie. I sent a Patronus to headquarters. I'm assuming that after debriefing he collapsed on a couch. I've done it before. You're so knackered that the moment you sit down you're just unable to make yourself get back up."

They all nodded in understanding, having all experienced the debilitating exhaustion after an assignment.

"Smart thinking." Hestia smiled, "Can someone perform a sobering charm on me?"

Pulling her wand from her chest, Lily pointed the tip on Hestia's temple.

"Thank you." She grinned, instantly perking up.

"Actually, I'm going to head home." Edgar lifted himself from the arm of the couch.

"Wah!" Lily groaned rolling toward him, bringing her wand to her own temple.

Standing, both girls offered him hugs and followed him to the lift.

"Is your wife going to spank you for getting home late?" Hestia giggled as he pressed the down button, forcing him to thrust his hands in his pocket and blush.

"Wife?" Lily grinned widely.

"We're not married, but she will be waiting for me. You remember how Artemis is, Lily." He snuck an impish grin her way.

"Artemis?" Lily laughed good-naturedly. "How'd you manage that?"

The bell rang as the lift announced its arrival.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Edgar grinned, waggling his eyebrows suggestively at her before turning at the open door.

His playful expression fell from his face as he exclaimed,

"James!"

TBC…

A/N: Chapter title was taken from a song by Bright Eyes (whose music is his own, of course).

Remember to review; your responses are like the rush of dopamine after a workout, or after a tanning session. Keep the good feelings coming!

With love,

Yo-yo


	5. Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds

Jagged Red Pill

By yo-yo

A/N: Sorry for the one week hiatus, I had to do it for two reasons. Reason 1, Chapters 5 & 6 were not turning out to my liking, and I prefer to have at least a one chapter buffer when I publish, so I waited until I got caught up. Reason 2, one of my reviews threw me for a loop, forcing me to re-evaluate what I wanted to achieve in my overall story and in each chapter. I'll explain in a second (**sweetbean23**'s response). But first, my thanks:

Thank you **lilalex13**, **sweetbean23**, and **Akt5us** for your reviews. As I've said before, reviews are extremely valuable to me and help me gauge how I should proceed, which I was really grateful for so early in my story. **Lilalex13**, thank you for so faithfully reviewing, I smile when I get my e-mail notifications from you. That cliffhanger led to something significant, and hopefully I have made you more eager to read future chapters. **Akt5us**, your enthusiasm made me smile, and I am just as curious to hear your response to this chapter as you are to what I might have in store for you. Let me know, I love hearing what you've got to say.

And **sweetbean23**, two chapters in a row you have earned your own paragraph. Your insightful review was extremely impactful. When you called Chapter 3 an 'interlude' chapter it made me realize the story wasn't progressing the way I really wanted, and it had to do with pacing. You're right, each chapter was coming out one high intensity then one low intensity, and I realized that needed to be fixed. I was contemplating reworking the whole story, but that would just be painful for you guys, and considering what was already written, it just didn't make sense without essentially having to re-write what has already been published, and almost re-imagine everything. So instead, I've re-written the later chapters to reflect the pacing I was looking for, and I must tell you, they are making me feel much more comfortable. This chapter follows the old pacing, but is a high impact chapter. I hope you enjoy.

Thank you for everyone who have been reading this story, and especially for those who have been reviewing. As you can see, I take all over your reviews seriously, and what you say can have a direct impact on the story. So please **review** and make me an **impact**!

With love, Y.

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><p>Chapter 4- Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds:<p>

Sirius and Remus rushed into the corridor to crouch over the young man slumped on the floor his skin glistening with sweat, drops and smears of blood everywhere.

"Prongs!" they called to him.

White noise filled Lily's ears. Blood and metal and darkness brought her back to a place she hadn't been for years.

For a moment, time slowed and her vision sharpened, as though she were peering through Omniculars using the play-by-play function. He was collapsed on the floor, with Sirius and Remus hovered over him, Hestia was hanging out of an open window, a silver butterfly soaring from the end of her wand, and Edgar had plunged down the staircase.

The moment of prolonged reality lasted a millisecond. Her hesitation was immediately replaced by her Healer training.

Unsure who occupied the other apartments, Lily performed a _Muffliato_ charm before moving straight for James, Remus and Sirius.

"You need to move him inside," she pressed her hands on either shoulder. "I can work on him there, but this… this cannot happen here."

Remus looked up at her calm face and nodded. Pulling Sirius up with him, they both pointed their wand at James, carrying him on an invisible stretcher between them into the flat.

"Am I right you just sent your Patronus to Alastor?"

"Yes," Hestia nodded.

"Good. Then I'm going to need you to get a blanket, a basin of hot water and a flannel." She instructed as they both followed the boys into the apartment.

"Yes." Hestia broke away from Lily, heading for the kitchen while Lily moved to the couch.

One half of the long, L-shaped couch had been transfigured into a hospital bed as Lily moved beside him. Pulling out her wand, a small light lit at the end appeared and she pulled open each of his eyelids checking for dilation. His eyes were bloodshot, the blood vessels and optic nerve swollen.

She felt for the major vital signs: his skin was hot and sweaty, his pulse erratic and his raspy breath shallow. Her visual examination of him recognized the signs of physical stress, but she couldn't see any abrasions. He was bleeding, there was blood everywhere on his black robes, but she had no idea where it was coming from.

Working quickly, she ripped his robes open, tearing apart the layers of clothing beneath. His sweat soaked through his undershirt and his T-shirt was showing large damp spots, but his upper body, once cleared of dress, was perfectly intact.

Moving next to unfasten his jeans, she tried to pull them off, but found his weight too much for her. That's when Sirius began to negotiate James's dead weight, making it possible for her to tug them off. When she'd gotten the pants below his knee, she found the source of his distress: a large, red gash, with blown blood vessels stemming from the wound blushing purple and green just beneath the surface of his skin.

"He's been pierced with something poisonous," she gasped, working more quickly now, if that were possible.

Tearing lengths of fabric from his robes, she tied a tourniquet beneath his knee and another just above his ankle. Conjuring a cotton swab she prodded it in James's wound, causing him to cry out in pain, while she collected a sample and placed it in a newly conjured vial.

"I know you aren't the best at Potions, but if you can reverse the chemistry, I would be forever thankful," she turned and thrust the sample in Remus's hand.

He nodded and turned in the direction of the kitchen.

Hestia arrived with the things she requested, Lily repeated collecting the sample two more times before moving away and saying to Sirius,

"Clean the wound as best you can."

As she turned to grab her previously discarded purse, she was ruffling through, locating a small mokeskin pouch in a blind search when Moody and Edgar burst through the door.

"Moody?" she asked, Remus came out of the kitchen at Moody's name.

"Black, I need your assistance," Moody said first, eyeing the young man stooped over the hospital bed.

Sirius nodded, handing the sopping flannel to Hestia. Bringing his wand to his temple, he whispered a quick incantation before rushing out of the opened door.

"There's blood leading from the Apparation point to the lift and inside. We've surmised he was either injured before Apparating or in the process. The blood is fresh, so he hasn't been here long," Edgar filled them in.

"Good," Lily sighed, digging deep inside the small pouch.

"Lily, what have you found?" Moody asked.

"It's poison. I don't know what kind, but it should be alright. Remus is-"

"It's basilisk venom." Moody interrupted. "I can pick up its scent."

The color drained from Lily's face as she pulled out various bottles from her pouch. "I don't have… I only have a bezoar."

Moody squeezed her shoulder affectionately, "It's alright. Let me see him."

Moving toward Hestia, who were leaning over an unconscious James, whose breath came out ragged as he labored for breath, Moody gently pushed her aside. He pulled a pouch from around his neck and pulled out a vial of a pearly white substance. Uncorking the vial he tipped a couple of drops into the open wound. Slowly, the bruised blood vessels receded, the wound began to heal, and upon Lily re-evaluating his vital signs, she found his pulse regain a steady, normal rate.

"Remind me to leave a bottle for you tomorrow," said the elder Auror.

Lily nodded pressing her hand on James's forehead as the fever began to abate.

"How'd you know to come?" Remus turned to Moody.

Lily moved to James's leg to unbind the tourniquets.

"Sirius's Patronus found me. James never appeared for debriefing. I Apparated to find Edgar waiting for me by the lift, and Hestia's Patronus was also waiting for me."

"How's he doing?" Remus asked, watching Lily's ministrations closely.

"He'll be fine. I think the most pressing issue might be a concussion, I'll monitor him throughout the night."

"Having a Healer in the group is pretty brill," said Hestia who smiled gratefully at Lily.

"Do we know what happened?" Moody asked the group.

Remus shook his head, "He hasn't been conscious."

"Considering it must have happened on assignment, I think it's better to debrief tomorrow, once he's gotten some rest. If he does have a concussion, you won't be able to get much out of him." Lily advised.

Moody nodded grimly, "Ok. Lily, you'll stay tonight?"

She nodded.

"Edgar, you can go home and Hestia, you're free as well. I will see you all, including a lucid James in the office by 1500. Is that sufficient, Lily?"

She nodded again.

"Goodnight."

Both Moody and Edgar left the flat together.

* * *

><p>The first time he transformed, he found it profound how his newly honed senses inspired his every movement. As he wandered through The Forbidden Forest for the first time as a stag, he was amazed at the preciseness of his movements. His large, lumbering body, when human usually awkward and uncoordinated due to his recent growth spurt, now moved delicately through the brush. His ears twitched, detecting every sound that wasn't his own. His keen nose smelled scents as well as intent. His sharp eyesight saw everything. Even his hooves seemed to invoke the feeling of touch: moss gave like a luxurious carpet where grass pricked like pliable swords.<p>

As a stag, his thoughts were uncomplicated; his movements driven by instinct.

He remembered very little about the night he was poisoned, he only remembered that it was the complete opposite of his first Animagus transformation.

He was out of sorts.

It wasn't an unusual feeling. In his line of work, days, weeks and months sometimes melded into one string of consciousness and unconsciousness. The constant training, sleeping at irregular intervals, the continual stream new acquaintances, and Apparating in and out of so many new locales and situations were common causes of confusion. Those, along with his recent lengthy assignment in Austria, longing to be home the whole time, made waking up at home feel like a phantasm.

Taking several moments to re-orient himself, he groaned aloud when he realized his blurry vision wasn't part of some elaborate dream. It wasn't like when he wasn't wearing his glasses. It was a debilitating kind of blurry, somehow his eyes ached and his brain throbbed and he only knew he was home because of the familiar smells.

Suddenly, a bright light and a pair of fingers tugged his eyelids open.

His tongue felt heavy in his mouth, but he felt confident that the person understood him when the response was,

"You don't remember me ripping your clothes off last night and having my way with you?"

The voice seemed vaguely familiar.

"I'm offended," a pout was evident in the voice.

He squinted, trying to place a face to the feminine voice, but all he saw was a conglomeration of color. Blinding sunlight streamed in through the windows, he knew, like it did on most mornings. A red curtain suddenly fell between them, filtering out the mind numbing light coming from the windows and sheltering them in its pinkish glow.

"How are you feeling?" she whispered, as her fingers began to feel for other parts of him, his forehead, base of his neck, underneath the sheet and down his leg.

He tried to speak again, but coherency was currently unattainable.

"You should gain all your faculties soon and Remus will take you to headquarters; Moody wants to see you. If you aren't feeling one hundred percent later, let me know and I'll get you some medication. But for now, I must be off. Ham is waiting."

He tried one last time to communicate, and much like his latest attempts, she seemed able to comprehend.

"My name is Lily Evans. It was nice working on you, James Potter."

As she stood up, the reprieve the red curtain offered when their faces were close was lifted, and he was plunged back into the head throbbing, vision skewing, mind numbing white light of the blaring sun. Shadows abstracted his vision and all he saw was a silhouette that was most definitely feminine retreating. She had easy curves he recognized from months ago.

His body couldn't take the strains of consciousness any longer, and he fell into a deep sleep, dreaming about a bank cashier.

He had no idea how long he'd slept, but when he finally roused, it was to the sound of quiet chatter.

"Lily?" He breathed, attempting to sit up, only to have a pair of hands shove him back down.

"Prongs, you alright?" Peter asked first.

James opened his eyes to find the fuzzy outlines of Peter, Remus and Hestia leaning over him.

"She's gone, mate," Remus frowned down at him.

"She saved your life," Hestia nodded. "Moody has never been as proud of a newbie as he was last night."

"I missed all of it. Got in early this morning, I came up the lift as she was leaving. She's gorgeous," Peter added.

Hestia pushed back his fringe, "Your fever's gone. How's your eyesight? Lily said you were unfocused. She believed you suffered a concussion."

"Blurry," he croaked. "Can I have my specs?"

"Right," Peter chuckled, "that would make sense."

Placing the spectacles on his face, James smiled, "Vision's returned."

"Good," a sigh of relief washed over his mates' faces.

"Alright," Remus sighed. "Will you be able to come to headquarters with us in an hour? Moody would like to see you."

James nodded, "I feel sore, but otherwise fine. What happened last night?"

"That's what we were going to ask you," Moony frowned.

* * *

><p>They stood before one another epitomizing the oxymoron eerily familiar. Their giggles and quips were submerged in shared history, but they sparred like strangers, their calculated blows testing for weakness.<p>

Edgar Bones was dignified and attractive in the manner of status and wealth. His unyielding posture, fastidious decorum and haughty air were inherited from the long, illustrious line of Bones from which he came. His stylishly coiffed blond hair, piercing blue eyes, and slim athletic build alluded to his distant relation to British nobility. Every foot he deposited on the ground was a testament to the attention paid in his upbringing.

He was a terrible field agent in gritty situations.

But he was an accomplished dueler, a clever strategist and bloody resourceful, therefore Edgar Bones was an indispensible member of the OPs.

From his place in the darkened observation room James watched Edgar and Lily through the wall-sized window. Despite their serious expressions, every few minutes was punctuated with bouts of laughter.

With her back to him, only her figure on display, James couldn't see what made Lily Evans such a hot topic. In terms of aesthetics, she was average height, leaner than average build, and pale skinned. In terms of competence, her strikes were sound and lean muscle rippled beneath her exercise costume, but she still fought like a Muggle. Nothing about her conveyed a past or a future, only a present, and at present, she was pedestrian.

She certainly wasn't gorgeous, although Peter would find a broom gorgeous if dusty pieces of food were stuck to it.

Lily Evans was unremarkable, as plain as they came.

This probably made her an excellent agent.

"James?" Moody's voice broke his reverie.

"Yes?" He looked away from the sparring couple.

"Debrief."

He simply nodded his head and followed Moody to his office.

Two hours later, James stalked out of Moody's office in frustration. Revisiting the last three months of his life while combing through minutia to discover the details leading to who'd poisoned him last night was exhausting. On top of that, learning that this hiccup might bring him back to Austria when he had thought, just before Disapparating last night that he was finally free to relax at home, was making him even tenser. And on top of that, listening to everyone talk about this Muggle-born that was apparently capable of everything, including turning water to wine… Ok, he was getting carried away now.

But he **was** fed up.

He just wanted time off. He just wanted to sleep… for about a week.

In resolution, he sighed. This was the life he'd chosen.

James, like Edgar, exuded the disposition intrinsic to a privileged upbringing. Potter was a well-known name in the wizarding world. James didn't need to take the pittance offered by the Auror department, but chose to. He wanted to make a name for himself outside of his family's overbearing shadow.

That knowledge didn't keep him from groaning in frustration.

When he'd finally regained his eyesight this morning he'd almost felt as good as new. He'd even felt reinvigorated when he'd side Apparated to headquarters with Remus. It'd felt like the old days, when they'd first begun working.

Being constantly reminded of a near death experience he barely remembered was driving him crazy. Everyone kept talking about Lily's live-giving touch. How if she hadn't been there, Moody would not have been so effective. How Lily's quick thinking pulled him from the clutches of Hades. How Lily even selflessly stayed the night to monitor his poor health. How much of a godsend Lily was. How Lily was the sodding salt of the earth… Even now, as he poked his head in various rooms, he couldn't help but seethe at her ability to weasel into every aspect of the last 24-hours.

Moody had sent him to find her.

_She is only getting all of this attention because she's Muggle-born_, he groaned.

"…why you wouldn't put it in the normal place?"

"I told you, I don't want any unwanted visitors. I'm barely there as it is," she groaned with furrowed brows. "Just think of it as building a better mouse trap."

"It kind of-"

"Why you Muggles even waste the time to trap your mice, I'll never understand," James interjected, leaning coolly in the doorjamb with his arms crossed. "Mice should really be the least of your problems."

"Oh really?" she turned toward him, an air of indignation coloring her voice.

Lily and Remus had been huddled over a tiny model containing an exterior corner of what appeared to be a house, levitating and revolving by magic. At the sound of his voice, maybe a little more smug than he'd intended, they moved to face him as though one: their backs straightening, their seats swiveling, and their eyes shifting to him simultaneously.

"And what are Muggle's major problems?"

Her eyes flashed dangerously, and James visibly faltered, plowing his fingers through his hair involuntarily.

Somehow he'd forgotten.

If it were another, he'd hold steadfast to his earlier assertion. He would call her prettiness incidental citing the science of conventional beauty as being an accumulation of the most average features. He would uphold that her face wouldn't stand out in a crowd. He would defend that even her red hair wasn't an anomaly anymore, the color being in vogue and inspiring faux gingers. He would even go as far as to establish that after years of undercover work, indistinct faces, such as hers, were easily filed away in the deep recesses of his mind as irrelevant.

If it weren't for her eyes.

It was her eyes that immobilized his tongue and cleared his brain of a clever retort.

These were the same transcendent green pools that had regarded him simply at The Leaky Cauldron months ago. It wasn't their color that caught him, red hair and green eyes were so frequently paired that they'd become commonplace. It was their curvature, almond shaped and round. It was their magnetism, a singular feeling that wrapped around him and pulled him so completely when she regarded him. It was their intensity, a dark and enigmatic draw that turned the color from clear to faceted with her changing mood.

When she looked at him, he found himself lost.

He knew something similar had happened to him the night they'd met. There was a simplistic splendor that had entranced him back then. But now, this was different. Somehow, her intensity resounded deep within him.

As she regarded him in Remus's office, with the steely gaze of something disgusting found on the bottom of her shoe, he couldn't look away. There was something completely profound happening in her eyes.

_How could he have forgotten her?_

"I'm sorry, Lily. What he meant to say was, 'Hi Lily, saver of my life. My name is James Potter and I am sorry I have to run. You see, I have an appointment to get this foot surgically removed from my mouth. Cheerio,'" Remus interjected, noting the looks passing between them.

When James didn't respond, staring at her dumbfounded, Lily turned to Remus, "Remus, we can discuss this later. It isn't pressing," her expression changed from offended to just plain exhausted as she turned. "I'm going to go and get coffee or something. It's obvious that you guys need to talk."

She stood up and walked out of his office, not bothering to look at James as she passed.

"Cor James, could you be more rude?" Remus groaned when she'd gone.

Regaining his faculties, James frowned in confusion.

"Shit."

Without another word, he stalked in the direction she had taken. He found her with a mug in hand, moving to the coffeepot. As she reached for it, James came behind her and his hand clamped down on her arm, arresting her movement and startling her. In the same moment she turned to look at him and the mug she'd been holding slipped from her fingers and crashed between them in a heap of ceramic shards and dust.

Instantly, and reflexively, as though he was being burned, the hand that grabbed her released her in an automatic response to the heat radiating from her skin. She felt like fire, his hand muscles ached, a heat that radiated throughout her person and settled, somehow so clearly, in her eyes.

Her eyes narrowed. Her lips twitched. He anticipated a verbal attack and countered,

"Look, I'm sorry for what I did."

It wasn't the first time he'd had to apologize to a bird for sneaking out on her.

"You were a bit of a wanker," she moved away from him, putting space between them.

"But if we're going to work together, you can't behave like this. It's unprofessional."

Her eyes flared up again, the color licking like green flames.

"You're calling me unprofessional? You're the one-"

"James, Lily, what's taking so long?" Moody's voice broke their interchange.

She flashed him one more loathing look before stomping to Moody's office with James keeping the pace behind her.

"Lily," Moody began as James closed the door behind him. "I'm aware of a putter correspondence between a Muggle and a pen pal. I want to know if you're capable of tracing it?"

"Pardon?" Lily asked taking a seat before him, confused by everything he just said.

"James, translate," Moody groaned in frustration.

"We have a Muggle informant that has been speaking to a stranger. We have some intelligence concerning their conversations, but we need to know who she's been talking to."

"How am I supposed to help?" She frowned, still confused.

"They've been corresponding on that Muggle contraption… the one that links people through words?"

"A Mobile?"

"No bigger… text and pictures."

"A computer?"

"Yes," James smiled; it was the same in German and in English.

"Is this time sensitive?" she inquired, watching the two men from her seat. "I'm right that this concerns last night?"

Moody nodded.

"Then I must be honest," she sighed resolutely, "I can use a computer fine, but tracing IP addresses and such requires time and expertise, and I have neither of those. Your best bet is to hire a contractor. I have someone in mind."

"A contractor?" James frowned, uncomfortable with having a Muggle doing this work.

"My sister has nothing to do all day, and she's more than adept at finding out this information for you. If I gave her a hundred quid from the slush fund she'd be more than compensated."

James shook his head, leaning against the stonewall in Moody's office. "I don't like the idea of handing sensitive information to someone outside OPs, especially information that reveals the identity of my informant."

"She'll be discrete." Lily assured him.

"I'd prefer it if you'd perform a mind-wiping charm after she's done."

"I won't perform magic on my sister."

"She's not an OPs member," he insisted.

"And I tell you she's trustworthy. I'm the only witch she knows. She won't tell anyone," she said and glared.

"I don't think this is a good idea."

"Well, when you need Muggle help, you're going to find yourself in this situation." She crossed her arms over her chest.

"Isn't that why we have you?"

She shot up from her seat and stalked right over to him. Standing on her toes, she stared him directly in the eyes and prodded him with her finger,

"I am not your Muggle liaison. I am a qualified Auror and Healer and if there is something that can be contracted out securely, you'd be smart to do it and leave me to do my own work, arsehole."

James laughed derisively at her comment,

"You're calling me an arsehole?"

"What else do you call a person you barely know that's done nothing but insult you from the moment you've laid eyes on them? I haven't even introduced myself and you've already reduced my ancestry, my character and my appointment. Do I threaten you? Is it because I'm a woman? What's your deal, prat?"

"I don't have a... I apologized for what I did. It wasn't meant as an insult. I was winding you up, but you took it the wrong way. And how is it insulting to ask you do to Muggle things when you're a Muggle?"

"Because you're reducing me and all my skills and accomplishments to things I cannot control. On top of that you're completely disregarding the reasons I was hired, you ignorant git! If you can't discern when you're-"

Suddenly, Lily and James were thrown apart by a force generated from Moody's wand, each one colliding quite painfully with an opposing wall.

"Alright," Moody moved his head to send a pointed look to both of them. "As your superior I cannot sit back and allow for sheer insubordination. So you have two options, go beat the shite out of one another in the training room… I advise hand-to-hand combat as Lily excels at it and James needs the practice. Or let whatever this is go."

From across the room, Lily was seething in anger. Her eyes had changed color again, and reminded James of a kaleidoscope. Now a storm of grey had darkened them with flecks of gold flashing like tiny lightning bolts.

"I'm going to the training room," she moved in the direction of the door. "If you want my sister's help, let me know. I also need those files before I leave."

And she was gone. The sound of the door rebounding against the wall loudly perfectly conveyed her anger.

"James?" Moody asked quietly. "Your decision?"

James's eyes swiveled to his mentor, the frustration he'd just felt drained instantly with her retreat, but the confusion and heat of something else only ebbed slightly as Moody regarded him coolly.

"Why punch-up like a Muggle when I've got a wand? Give her sister the bloody account and let's get it over with." James said through clenched teeth and left Moody's office as well.

TBC…

A/N: Chapter title is from a song by The Beatles (whose music is… someone's at this point. It used to be Michael Jackson's…I dunno' who owns them now, but it's definitely not me).

With love,

Yo-yo


	6. Take Me Out

Jagged Red Pill

-By Yo-yo

A/N: So it has been like forever, right?! I'm so sorry. This year has been a doozy and I'm just trying to recover. The next chapter is already written, and it's kind of amazing, if I do say so myself. When you receive the next chapter depends on your reviews. I moved, started school, have been working and just all around have been incredibly busy, but forcing myself to finish this story because writing makes me happy.

I hope you all enjoy this chapter. It's getting back to the spirit of this story that I wanted to achieve in the first place. And if you aren't new to this story, re-reading old chapters might be beneficial as I've done some revisions. Not every chapter has been revised because I realized how great of an undertaking I'd assumed in re-working this story, but some, so that it flowed slightly better.

-Y

P.S. **Lilalex13**, **Fyrebolt**, **Forbular**, and **TheLadySongSerenade** thank you for your reviews.

* * *

><p>Chapter 5- Take Me Out:<p>

Pushing through the revolving door, an uncontrollable grimace crossed her face. Despite the neutral exterior of the building, the interior was bedlam.

It was only half past ten.

Performing an impervious and muffling charm, Lily made her way through the throng of people communicating in every language and moved to the end of the INQUIRIES queue, clutching the files she brought tightly.

Groaning inwardly at the length of the line, she instead assumed a mildly curious expression as she took in her surroundings and twirled a curl around her finger.

She knew the office scheme. Through the revolving doors, she would proceed straight through the mail sorting room to the lift. Up six floors, she would turn right, down the hallway containing the offices of Clara Bell, Lakshimi Baig, Simon Chen and Tom Ford, straight to the Adverts Department where Morwenna Paulson sat at the receptionist's desk.

Fingering the folder she held while standing in this infernal line she surveyed the pandemonium about her. The most subtle, and most expected, of the disorder was the sound of shuffling papers. Only, it was not a few reams of paper, it was the shuffling of millions of sheets of paper, making for a deafening white noise. On top of that disorder came the commotion concerning the fowl. Their constant squawking, along with the sickening smell and sound of their droppings, and the continual dusting of feathers made for the feel of having stumbled into an overflowing pet shop. Compounded on top of the fowl and paper was the overachieving nature of man. In the sprawling atrium, witches and wizards teemed in droves, speaking hundreds of languages and competing over one another for the most prominent voice. These booming voices were the tour guides, and this was the visitor's entrance to the _Daily Prophet_.

Although not her first time in the _Prophet_ atrium, the level of bedlam wizards tolerated still astounded her.

"Next!" a rude voice interrupted her thoughts.

Moving to the front of the INQUIRIES line, Lily mumbled, "My name is Evans. I have an appointment with Brown in the Adverts Department."

Taking a moment to thumb through the list, the gargantuan, toad-like man nodded at her name and croaked, "Fifth floor. Lift's through there." He pointed while shouting, "Next!"

Lily moved without comment, plowing through the tourists through the second set of revolving doors.

"Hi, I'm here to see Goodrich Brown," Lily stood before the sprawling receptionist's desk at the entrance of the Adverts Department.

"He'll be out in a few moments. Have a seat," the young woman nodded without lifting her eyes.

Taking a seat in the small reception area, Lily pulled the folder to her stomach, tucking her ankles beneath her seat.

"Morwenna," a voice she knew preceded a person she barely recognized as they stalked into the office. "Have you uncovered the old facsimiles from the Dover Fish account? I have a deadline." The person threw a file on the desk already inundated in parchment.

Standing before her, was a petite, thin young woman with long, straight blonde hair and an imposing posture. Even without seeing her face, Lily knew she had a kind, round face and warm brown eyes. Lily was sure her inflection was severe, but her expression never could be, for Alice Adams was the sweetest person she knew.

"Al?!"

The blonde's back straightened before she whipped around at her nickname,

"Lils?! What are you doing here?!"

Like the old friends they were, they squealed and embraced enthusiastically. Still wrapped in each other, they tugged on hair, fingered clothes and noted changes since they last saw one another.

"Your hair is so long!" Lily pulled the golden strands.

"Your hair is straight?" Alice marveled at the red locks.

"My attempt to resemble a professional for the purposes of this meeting. What are you doing here?"

"I work here. Did you not read my riveting expose concerning the dangers of imported hedgehog puffs? So many women ended up with mangled faces, just to save a few Galleons."

"I had no time to read your expose because I was attending to those afflicted at St. Mungo's. They left ghastly marks."

"Yes, I heard you were working there," Alice smiled sympathetically, "I mean, I heard of your appointment after you were sacked."

"Oh," Lily lowered her head as her cheeks flared red in mortification, "So you heard about that?"

"It was quite the scuttlebutt. People I haven't spoken to in years pelted me with owls. I had to reveal that we hadn't spoken in some time. But I suppose Healer training is a good reason for dropping off the face of the earth?"

"Well I-" Lily began.

"Look," Alice cut her off, disengaging from their embrace while eyeing Lily purposefully. "I can see you have a meeting with Brown, and I am on a bit of a rampage. If you have thirty minutes after your meeting, would you fancy going for a broom ride, like old times?"

"I don't know, the crosswind seems unpredictable. How about a butty* in the park?"

Alice's eyes softened and a genuine smile sank into her features, bringing out her deep dimples. "That sounds lovely. I must be off then."

"I'll see you in half an hour," Lily smiled, noticing the tall, gawky man heading toward them, she knew him to be Mr. Brown.

"Evans?" Brown extended his hand to her.

Alice quickly resumed her impatient act, and stormed out of the office with her file in hand, but not before pausing to wave goodbye.

Half an hour later, Alice and Lily shared a wrought iron bench in a quiet corner of The People's Garden, the large courtyard in Diagon Alley, and munched on sandwiches and crisps.

"…and Frank?"

"Still together. He works for the Auror department," Alice took a bite from her BLT and flashed the diamond on her left ring finger while maintaining eye contact.

"And engaged! Oh, I'm so happy for you, Al. It makes all those nights of listening to you whinge about being so utterly invisible to him worth it. I was wondering when it would happen."

"Such treachery," Alice shot Lily a playful glare. "What happened with Eli? I thought I'd be seeing his ring on your finger?"

Lily shook her head and sipped from her water. "What would inevitably happen with Eli and I happened. Did you hear about Artemis and Edgar? That's a couple I never would have pegged."

"Well, you know Artemis. She always gets what she wants, and landing a Bones is her style."

"I have forgotten that aspect of her personality," Lily laughed softly.

"Do you still see anyone from school?" Alice implored.

"At Mungo's I saw people in passing… but the nature of that place…" she shook her head.

Alice nodded.

"Recently, I have made the acquaintances of some young men who call themselves the Marauders. They're a jolly bunch," she pulled a piece from her chicken salad butty. "Did you know them?"

"I knew _of_ them. Frank knew them for disciplinary reasons. But the closest _I_ got to them was mooning over them like all the girls."

"Except me, apparently," Lily tilted her head to the side, a smile skimming her features. "I wasn't the type."

"I remember. It made you so incredibly dull… until you **were** the type, that is," Alice winked.

"Hush!" Lily playfully swatted her. "I must admit being with them reminds me of how fun the wizarding world is. I haven't had that kind of fun in years."

"I'm happy to know that you're back. Do you remember when we snuck into the boys' dormitory and set off dungbombs in their wardrobes?"

"How could I forget? You were the one to suggest muting their olfactory glands-"

"I couldn't do it without you, though. You were the one that excelled at anatomical transfiguration-"

"Everyone kept eyeing Edgar and telling him he smelled like a troll. It took him three days to realize he couldn't smell anything in his Amortentia Potion… He hexed off our hair. I wore a turban-"

"-I wore a headscarf. He never calculated women's fashion-"

"-and make-up-"

"-into that plan."

"Amateur," Lily laughed.

"I have to get back," Alice frowned apologetically while sitting up.

"Me too," Lily checked her watch. "We should get drinks."

"I'll send an owl," Alice nodded, twisting to collect her things.

Lily moved to offer her old mate a swift hug and whispered softly in her ear, "No owls. I live with Muggles."

"I'll find a way," Alice released her and walked toward the _Daily Prophet_. "Bye Lils."

"It was nice seeing you again," Lily called after Alice while gathering her food items, throwing them in the rubbish bin before heading toward The Leaky Cauldron.

* * *

><p>His feet slammed against the concrete, the shock reverberated like a pain from his ankles, up to his shins and finally to his knees. He hesitated a moment, the sensation niggled until it didn't, dissipating as quickly as it had come.<p>

Moving forward nimbly, he kept his steps light and precise.

Where had he gone wrong?

Yesterday, when she looked at him, time stopped, and sped up at irregular intervals and all he could make out was that she was furious-

At him.

He pressed his back firmly against the cool exterior of the steel, windowless building. He looked up. Nothing moved above him; the skies were all clear. Two guards with large, long metal sticks and stern expressions moved along lazily to his left, about fifty meters away, guarding the south and east perimeters. To his right, the area appeared clear of guardsmen. He was standing on the southwest corner. On the west side, less than ten meters away, a guard kept watch from a station. Currently, his face was positioned downward, angled away from the two hundred and seventy degree visibility window, leading James to believe he must have been engaged in some sort of reading.

A large, rusted metal door about ten meters beyond the guard's station was closed.

He looked down at his watch. He had two more minutes.

When they'd first met, confronted with her disheveled appearance and unruly inebriation, he'd found her amusing. She'd taken his light touch and easy humor in stride, reeling him into her.

She was attractive and uncomplicated.

A soft twittering sound drifted from inside the booth and the guard pulled out a small, plastic brick and talked into it softly.

The large metal doors clicked open and slid apart, clanging loudly as they moved against corrugated sheet metal. Two men passed through the partition, blowing smoke from their glowing cigarettes as they moved outside. The three guards exchanged a brief nod and all resumed their previous activities, their large metal sticks hanging down their sides.

This was his cue.

Seizing the moment, James moved forward swiftly, and slithered through the front door. The inside was open and spacious, the steel skeleton geometric and strong, and the even concrete reflective and smooth.

He'd forgotten her.

Pattering quickly and quietly along the slick floor, he tried to keep his footsteps undetectable, the only other sound on this still night being the creaking coming from the soft winds pressing against the thin sheet metal walls.

A single light illuminated the shiny metal thing sitting in the middle of the vast floor.

A month ago she was pretty and easy.

Yesterday she was stunning and intense.

Moving to the side of the polished Cessna, James ran his hand along its smooth side, fingering its surface for the rubber line that sealed the door. Finding it, he tapped his wand against it, and pulled the latch on the door, so that the ear-popping seal broke soundlessly.

Stairs sprang from joints when he pulled down the door. He hesitated a moment to marvel at Muggle's ingenuity before proceeding up the staircase, slightly unnerved by the unsteady shaking of the stairs, and how it easily shifted the attached aircraft.

He slipped inside.

Since her eyes flickered green flames, he hadn't been able to get her out of his head.

He took inventory of the interior with his eyes, surprised to find such a roomy interior. It was so comfortable he wondered if it had an enlargement charm, but he frowned and shook his head at the thought.

Magic always left a mark.

To one side, the direction of the nose, a narrow door was opened to reveal a tiny room with a million tiny switches before two grey, leather chairs. On either side of the narrow door were two cupboards. In the direction of the tail, six seats, four facing one another were positioned along the side, and a closed door sat beyond them.

James went toward the tail.

Hey eyes transformed her. While originally he had found her face homely, he now understood how Peter could describe her as gorgeous. In fact, he found gorgeous too mild a term. The slope of her cheekbones along her oval face, the pert line of her nose, the gentle curves of her supple lips, the strong lines of her bone structure and the soft curls in her red hair, were nothing short of striking.

As she leaned toward him, standing on her toes to negotiate their height difference, pressing her finger against his chest to punctuate the gravity of his errors, he found himself entranced, unable to assess the situation before him.

How could he have forgotten her?

Tapping his wand against the doorknob, he entered the backroom, where two rooms divided the space. The door on the right revealed a luggage hold. Suitcases were already neatly packed inside. The door on the left exposed a stainless steel loo overwhelmed in the combined scents of cleaning solution and perfume.

He shook his head as he closed the door, fighting off the heady daze it gave him. It wouldn't be here.

Moving back toward the nose, his eyes inspected every crevice. Tapping his wand on the chairs, the floors and along the walls, he concluded they were clean. Wrenching the cupboards open beside the cockpit, one was a cooler already stocked and the other appeared to be a catchall with bottles of wine, a file cabinet and other odds and ends.

It has to be in here, he frowned using his wand to search.

His search in both cupboards was fruitless, so he turned to the cockpit. Running his wand over every surface, even the first aid kit and black box, it revealed nothing. Stalking to the back of the plane, he checked his watch again, in five minutes he would lose his window.

The luggage carrier was filled with the trivial. His wand searched the compartment to no avail. Heading to the last place he would expect to find anything significant, he entered the lavatory. The vanity proved clear, as did the storage compartment beneath the sink. He even pulled out the plastic bag in the rubbish bin to ensure that it was clear.

His heartbeat accelerated. Looking down at his watch, the stopwatch read two minutes before the guards would return to their posts. Groaning in frustration, he threw himself back against the steel wall, when the obscene, suction sound of a flushing toilet startled him.

Scanning the room wildly, he wondered where the sound came from. Whirling around, he wretched open the seat lid, peering down into the bowl.

"Blimey, what was that?" A small voice, from very far away could be heard in the stillness of the night, and James panicked.

In the silver bowl, a dark blue chemical clung to the sides, while a small pool assembled at the bottom where apparently a small door slid open and shut to evacuate refuse. The latch was strained open where a small blue, chemically stained package was lodged.

_Bingo_, he grinned, plunging his hand in and dislodging the soaking parcel. It was small, a tear in the now blue paper where it had gotten stuck. It fit liberally in the palm of his hand.

Keeping his wits, he proceeded as calmly as he could manage. He pocketed the sopping package within his Invisibility Cloak and headed toward the door.

"Who let the door open?" One of the men called into the building cautiously, as the staircase began to tremble loudly as though someone were bounding down, as they approached.

"Oi, is anyone there?" The other guard called, pointing his metal stick in the direction of the jostling aircraft.

"Is anyone there?" Another guard called out.

James hesitated a moment to assess the current state. Before him three guards stood pointing their metal sticks at the slightly tilting aircraft. The other two guards were unaccounted. Thirty meters stood between James and the split metal doors, including three guards.

He was left with one option.

The sound of disembodied footsteps pounding on the smooth concrete resounded throughout the cavernous hangar and the guards panicked. The previously quiet, gaping interior now deafened with echoes of firing arms, footless footsteps, exploding concrete, dinging metal and frenzied yelling.

James booked it toward the door, deflecting bullets with his wand, shielding himself from flying concrete and trying to maintain some level of stealth as he approached the men and negotiated between the bodies to escape the room.

Moving past five bodies, James ran toward the large gate, scaled the high fence, blasted away the razor wire at the top, and landed ungracefully on the other side.

As he moved toward the forest, he didn't manage to hear the gunfire cease or the deep trembling voice proclaim moments later,

"It's gone!"

As he delved under the brush to find a secure place to Dissapparate.

.

"You led a bloody trail straight to your Disapparation point! How could you be so careless?" Moody slammed his fist into the polished wood of the boardroom table later that night.

"I left a bloody trail?" James frowned, looking down to inspect his limbs.

"You know what I mean. It's a figure of speech," Moody frowned, shaking his head.

"Look Moody, I got it. Doesn't that count for anything? They were blasting off those metal sticks. I almost got my arm blown off!"

"It's in the Muggle papers, Potter!" Moody groaned. "'Shots fired at Cotswold Airport!' That's the opposite of covert, agent."

"Did they mention the parcel?" James's intonation was terse as his lips pressed together.

He sat before a standing Moody at the long, oval conference table. He was beyond frustrated and angry and tired. Debriefing was stretching deep into the night and he still had paperwork to complete after they finished up.

"They're not going to publish that, would they? Sometimes you can be so-"

"I'll say," Sirius added from his seat beside James.

"Don't get me started on you," Moody fixed his stare on the grinning young man.

"On me, what did I do?" Sirius's face fell.

"Your research was flawed, Black. The flushing toilet was the impetus to this mishap. Have you figured out why the commode went off?"

"No," Sirius shook his head, fingering through the file before him.

"It's that bloody Muggle technology," James grumbled, pushing back his hair.

"You'd better be careful with that kind of talk," Sirius eyed him strangely. "I hear a new recruit doesn't share your anti-Muggle sentiment."

"Sod off," James flicked his wand and Sirius's jaw locked.

"He's right," Moody watched him. "You really came off like a tosser-"

James looked wildly at Moody, "What do you know?"

They knew Moody was right; Sirius and Moody both were.

"Back to the subject at hand," Moody focused his attention back to Sirius, "Did you learn anything regarding the other matter, Black?"

"I haven't heard from Savage or his cohorts. From what I can tell, there's been no disruption in procedure, schedule, or practice. There have been no emergency missions or-"

"Then I believe it's settled," James's jaw clenched as he looked from Moody to Black.

"Potter," Moody frowned, sympathetically. "I have taken your request earnestly, but until-"

"Moody," a husky feminine voice called through the door hesitantly, "You're being summoned."

"We're not done here," Moody sent a pointed look to both men before exiting.

When he'd left, the young woman sighed and entered, taking the seat beside James.

"Are you guys as knackered as I?" she stretched languidly, her arms extending over her head as she expelled one of the greatest yawns ever.

"…Bout the most feminine thing she's ever done," Sirius regarding her in distaste.

"Quite… usually she belches like a gourmand," James's steady voice matched his controlled expression. "Been to finishing school since we last saw you, McKinnon?"

"Finishing school? You're one to talk, rude bastard," McKinnon snorted, pushing back her glossy short brown hair.

"So you see what I'm saying," Sirius commented on her unladylike response.

"Hardy, har, har," Marlene rolled her eyes at the two men who'd suddenly become expressionless in her company. "Black, Remus was telling me-"

"Remus, she calls 'im," Sirius pointed out, stoically, "She calls us Black and Potter, but Lupin is _Reeeeemus_. She's bloody disrespectful."

"And a tad racist," James's frown deepened.

"How am I a racist?" Her expression of mild interest changed at his callous barb.

"You're obviously partial to the loping on all fours, furry kind. Us naked bipeds get nothing but the cold shoulder from you. I might report you to your superiors."

"Am I mistaken," she leans closer to whisper, "that your **alternates** walk on all fours, or has there been a hunting accident recently?"

"I specified four legs and fur, my 'alternate,' as you call it," he moved closer to her, his words soft, "wears no fur."

"Let's turn the tables on you then, Potter, shall I? How's a simple reconnaissance mission end up being Muggle news? The headlines will read 'Muggle Loo Bests Wizard Spook'."

"You aren't privy to that information, McKinnon. How did you learn about it anyway? Did _Reeeeemus_ tell you?"

"It's all over the office," she replied scathingly. "The Minister is angry."

"The Minister can go and fuck himself," James broke character in exasperation. His voice rose above a whisper, "And so can you."

Never one to omit an insult, Sirius added, "I always wondered if you slipped Remus the Amortensia potion? For I never understood what he sees in you, you're better suited for Peter, if you ask me."

Visibly offended, Marlene rose.

"Oh piss off," her eyes flashed. "Oh and Potter, while blue balls are symptomatic of not wanking enough, can you tell me if your blue hand is an indication of you wanking too often?" She finished with a lewd gesture before she turned to leave.

She bristled past Moody as he re-entered.

James looked down at his hand, it was still stained indigo.

"What-?" Moody raised a brow at her swift retreat, coupled with her low growl.

"Just some good natured bullying," Sirius waved Moody's concern away.

"We'll wrap this session up tonight, remember to do your paperwork, and have a good night."

"You made us wait for that?" They groaned in unison.

"Shacklebolt summoned me. I'll have to leave you to your devices for the night. I don't have the time to reprimand you dossers," Moody yawned.

James and Sirius nodded, sharing the exhaustion that trembled through Moody's frame as he yawned.

"Goodnight."

"Night, Moody," James pulled his paperwork forward and began to scratch out a report with his quill.

* * *

><p>"So… what is a 'pside kick?'"<p>

"It's pronounced, 'sigh-kick.' It's the Muggle equivalent of a seer. I actually got the idea from a Muggle television show."

"Television?"

"Not important," she moved on, inwardly cursing Professor Minkus. "Do you think it would be useful on the field?"

"Well it's a brilliant idea. I've come up with what seems like the perfect solution to your dilemma."

"What's that?"

"Instead of using it as an archival tool beyond publically accessible data, we should simply attach a friend or foe color indicator. It won't show faces, only colors that dictate procedure. If it glows red, suggesting a potential enemy, you contact your group head and the approved authority will take them to the Ministry. If it glows green, tie up the assailant with their wand nearby and escape before they do. This way no undercover member will be revealed."

"How do you propose it work effectively without becoming a threat in the wrong hands?" she leaned forward, impressed by the idea.

"I propose we weave Disillusionment potion into the 'plastack.' That way, if a member touches it, the 'sigh-kick' paper will only react to OPs members with approved fingerprints. And the friend or foe request will only be available to OPs members. If a Death Eater gets a hold of the device, so what, it's only revealing information they already know."

"That sounds perfect!" Lily grinned.

"Do you believe you're capable of the chemistry?" Moody interjected, walking into the office, eyeing Remus suspiciously.

"Actually, I was going to ask Lily here if she'd mind reliving some old R&D memories…"

"Would you like me to do the alchemy?"

"If you have the time, I would appreciate it."

"I'll head toward the library on my way-"

"Before you make any plans, I need you both in the board room."

They shrugged their shoulders and followed Moody.

Once they entered, the door slammed behind them and Moody began to speak before they settled.

"It seems at item of interest has made its way into the wrong hands, after having previously been in more dangerous hands," Moody leaned over the board table to offer a photograph to both Lily and Remus. "The Eye has been located in the most unlikely of places."

"What is this?" Lily asked, inspecting the large golden pendant with the pearl sclera, blue sapphire iris and black onyx pupil. Like the waterline, embedded in the golden frame, around the almond shaped pendant, were diamond chips. Lily magnified and minimized the wizard photograph for thorough inspection. "It's grotesque; it wasn't found on a woman."

"You are correct. It was found on a male vampire who used to be in police custody. Your objective tonight is to infiltrate Paddington Green Police Station and replace it with this."

He pulled a replica from his front pocket and offered it to Lily to inspect.

"Why do we want it?" Lily handed the fob to Remus.

"It is a powerful piece of magic, able to see through all disguises and illusions. You can see how dangerous it would be in the wrong hands?"

"But it has been in the wrong hands," Remus frowned, also turned off by the ostentatious piece. "Why haven't they used it?"

"For one, the undead would never be able to use it properly, although its origins are unknown, it is wizard wrought. For another, we suspect the vampire with whom it was found believed it was an attractive piece of bling."

"And who was wearing it?"

"Why your fellow, Benjamin Sinclair," Moody smiled slyly at Lily.

"Oh Benny, you silly, silly boy," Lily gathered the report in her hand and began reading. "He must have acquired it recently. He wasn't wearing it when we last met. We know he's a bit of a show off."

"It appears he's been up to his old tricks. The item's in Paddington Green custody because a Muggle got away from the club and reported attacks naming Sinclair and his mates. There was a raid, and they have since been released on bail."

"And the amulet is being held, why?"

"We don't know, but we need to get there before our friends do."

Lily and Remus nodded in unison.

TBC…

A/N: Chapter title is from a song by Franz Ferdinand (whose music is their own, of course).

*Butty - sandwich


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